Chapter 12 #2
Sofia felt so light and fragile in my arms, her little body scorching hot. It twisted something inside me.
"Come on," I said, striding quickly into the emergency room.
We were ushered into an exam room right away.
The doctor, an experienced woman in her fifties, examined Sofia thoroughly—taking her temperature, listening to her lungs.
"102.56 degrees Fahrenheit," she said. "It's a high fever, but it looks like it's from a common cold. No other serious symptoms."
Anna let out a relieved breath, though worry still lingered. "She'll be alright?"
"Yes," the doctor said with a smile. "Kids recover quickly. We'll bring the fever down and keep an eye on her for a few hours."
A nurse came in to administer a fever-reducing shot and settled Sofia into a bed in the observation room.
I stayed by their side the whole time, handling the paperwork and calming Anna.
"She'll be fine," I said softly to her. "The doctor said it's just a cold."
Anna sat at the bedside, holding Sofia's small hand tightly, tears glistening in her eyes.
"I was so scared," she admitted. "She's my everything... if anything happened to her..."
"It won't," I assured her, stepping closer and gently patting her shoulder. "She's going to be okay."
Just then, the doctor returned to check on Sofia.
"The medication is working," she said. "Her temperature's down to 100 degrees. Another hour of observation, and you can take her home."
Then she looked at us with a warm smile. "You have a very well-behaved daughter. And you," she added, turning to me, "you're a great father—staying so calm through all this."
Anna and I both froze.
An awkward silence filled the room.
The doctor seemed to sense the tension but didn't comment, just gave some final instructions and left.
"I'll go pick up the medication," Anna said suddenly, standing up. "Could you... stay with her for a bit?"
"Of course."
Anna hurried out of the room, leaving me alone with Sofia.
The fever was subsiding; her color was improving. She opened her eyes, looking a little dazed.
"Alex?" Her voice was soft and weak.
"I'm here," I said, sitting down beside the bed. "Feeling any better?"
"Yeah... my head doesn't hurt as much," she said, then asked, "Where's Mommy?"
"She's getting your medicine. She'll be back soon."
Sofia nodded, falling quiet for a moment.
Then she turned to me, her brown eyes holding a seriousness far beyond her years.
"Alex," she said softly. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
She hesitated, then whispered, "Could... could you be my daddy?"
My heart nearly stopped.
"Sofia..."
"I know Mommy says Daddy works far away," she continued, with a wisdom that belied her age. "But I think... you feel like the daddy I've always imagined. You're nice to me and to Mommy... and we look alike, don't we?"
I was at a loss for words.
This five-year-old girl, with her pure intuition, had voiced exactly what I'd longed to hear.
"Sweetheart," I said gently, stroking her hair. "It's... complicated."
"What's complicated?" she asked.
"Just... adult things that need time to figure out," I explained. "But I want you to know that no matter what, I'll always take care of you and your mommy."
She nodded, seeming to understand in her own way, then asked, "Will you stay with us?"
"I will," I said firmly. "I promise."
Sofia smiled contentedly and closed her eyes.
"I'm a little tired..."
"Then rest," I said. "I'll be right here."
A few minutes later, she drifted off to sleep.
I sat there, watching her peaceful sleeping face.
Such a young child, yet she'd said something so profound. Her heart was so pure, so direct...
And as for me...
I finally understood what fatherly love truly meant. Not possession or control, but an overwhelming urge to protect, to provide, to sacrifice everything for her happiness.
But this feeling didn't exist in isolation.
Looking at Sofia brought Anna to mind—the woman who'd borne every responsibility, every fear, every burden all by herself.
In the car earlier, when her voice trembled as she blamed herself, I'd wanted nothing more than to pull her into my arms and assure her everything would be alright.
For five years, she'd faced the terror of pregnancy alone, the agony of childbirth alone, the sleepless nights with a sick, crying child alone. And I... I'd been oblivious, done nothing.
That realization stirred a deep, intense longing—not just for her body, but to claim her entirely. I wanted to be the one by her side in the dead of night, the one she could rely on, the one ensuring she never had to face it all alone again.
I wanted her to be completely mine.
The desire was so powerful it made me realize that in those five years, no other woman had evoked anything like this. Tatyana and the others—they'd only satisfied physical needs. But Anna... she awakened something more primitive, more intense deep within me.
I wanted to possess her, to protect her, to make her understand she no longer had to shoulder those burdens alone.
Sofia was my daughter, and Anna... Anna was the woman I craved. They were inseparable, the complete whole I needed to claim.
I gently took Sofia's small hand in mine, glancing toward the door, waiting for Anna to return.
From this moment on, I would be a true father.
But more importantly, I would make Anna mine, ensure both mother and daughter belonged to me completely.
No matter the cost.