Every week someone checked to see if I was smart enough, healthy enough, capable enough to be a mother.
At first it humiliated me.
Then I started looking at him differently.
I kept a diary.
I recorded Emilia’s eating hours, reviews, vaccines, conversations with the pediatrician, our walks in the park. Not because I had to prove my love to someone.
And because I wanted no one to be able to say that I acted without thought.
Todor came from Ruse every week.
Sometimes it stayed a few days.
He was not a young father.
It hurt the cross. He was getting tired fast. Sometimes he fell asleep in the chair as Emilia lay on his chest.
But he looked at her as if the world was starting again.
One day I found him talking softly to her.
— I was very late, little one — said. — But this time I will not leave.
I stood at the door and cried without sound.
Because his words were not just about Emilia.
They were for me too.
For the girl who had ever chosen security in front of love.
For the woman who had spent forty-six years alone because she thought she had no right to a second chance.
Sylvia didn’t come to the beginning.
Mikhail doesn’t either.
But one day, when Emilia was seven months old, the door rang.
I opened.
Sylvia was standing there.
He was holding a small bag.
— Can I enter?
I did not say „of course “ immediately.
Not because I wanted to punish her.
And because I was afraid.
I was afraid he would come in, see the baby, and we would start arguing again.
But then I looked at her face.
She looked tired.
Not angry.
Just tired.
— Enter — I said.
She left the bag on the table.
There was a little knitted blanket inside.
Pink, with white flowers at the end.
— I did it myself — said. — I didn’t know what else to bring.
Emilia was lying in her trash and moving hands.
Sylvia approached slowly.
— Can I take it?
My heart contracted.
I looked at my daughter.
Then to the baby.
— Yes.
Sylvia took her insecure.
