Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Anna
Three days later, Sofia was finally ready to go home. She chattered nonstop the entire ride back.
"Mommy, is Alex coming today?" she asked for the fifth time.
"Sweetheart, Alex is at work," I said patiently, "but he'll come see you tonight."
"Really?" Her eyes lit up.
"Really. Now you need to rest."
That finally quieted her down. She settled back in her seat, satisfied.
Those three days at the hospital, I witnessed everything. Alexander showed up almost daily, always carrying some carefully chosen little gift. Day one was a colorful children's storybook, day two a soft teddy bear, day three he brought sunflowers—Sofia's favorite flowers.
But what really moved me wasn't the gifts. It was the way he looked at Sofia.
I'd seen that look before—every morning when I looked in the mirror. That's how a mother looks at her child. Pure, unconditional love and protectiveness. Now I understood it was also how a father looked at his child.
What touched me even more was how he'd help me out without being asked. When I had to rush back to the paper for urgent work, he'd stay with Sofia. When doctors came for checkups, he'd ask all the right questions, like a father who truly cared.
Yesterday, when I returned from the office, what I saw nearly brought me to tears. Alexander sat beside the hospital bed, patiently teaching Sofia to draw with colored pencils. Sofia had drawn a flower—crooked and messy—but she showed it to him with pure excitement.
"This one's for Mommy!" she said proudly.
"What about this one?" Alexander pointed to another flower.
"This one's for you, Alex! Because you're so nice to me!"
I saw something flash in Alexander's eyes—the joy of being needed, being loved.
In that moment, my heart softened.
No. My heart broke.
Because I suddenly realized what I'd been watching these three days wasn't just some kind neighbor caring for a sick child. I was watching a father love his daughter, and a daughter craving her father's love.
And I'd been standing in the way of that natural bond all along.
Now, sitting in the car watching Sofia's expectant face, I knew I couldn't keep hiding the truth.
After getting Sofia settled for a much-needed nap, I sat in the kitchen all morning, thinking. My mind was racing, thoughts crashing into each other.
Around noon, I finally made my decision and called Yekaterina. I paced the living room, burying my face in my hands.
"Katya, I'm losing it," I said the moment she picked up. "I don't know what to do."
"What's wrong? You sound frantic."
"It's about Alexander," I stopped pacing, leaning against the wall. "I want to... I want to tell him the truth."
Silence on the other end, then Yekaterina's soft laughter.
"Seriously?" I snapped. "Katya, I'm falling apart here and you're laughing?"
"Sorry, sorry," she said quickly. "I'm not laughing at you. It's just... this day was bound to come."
"What do you mean?" I started pacing again, from one end of the room to the other.
"Anna, remember what you told me months ago? You said you wished Sofia had a father, someone to help share the burden."
I stopped walking. "That's different."
"How?"
"Because back then I was imagining some perfect man," I sighed, lowering my voice so Sofia wouldn't hear. "A perfect... father."
"How do you know he won't be a good father?" Yekaterina's voice turned gentle. "Anna, you've seen how he is with Sofia these past few days."
"But how can I be sure?" I countered. "What if this is just some passing interest?"
"Are you sure that's what you're really worried about?"
Her question stopped me cold. "What do you mean?"
"I mean... maybe you're not just worried about whether he'll be a good father."
I knew what she was getting at. Watching Alexander and Sofia together these past few days, I felt more than just approval of his potential as a father. There were other, more complicated feelings stirring.
"Katya, I don't want to talk about this." I walked to the stairs, making sure Sofia was still sleeping upstairs.
"Fine, but you have to face reality," her tone turned serious. "Sofia has the right to know who her father is. And if you don't give them a chance, if Alexander turns out to be awful, you can always end things."
I bit my lip. "Yeah."
"Talk to him tonight. I can come watch Sofia."
"What? Tonight?" My heart hammered against my ribs.
"Is there a problem?"
"I can't... I just..." The words stuck in my throat.
"Breathe, Anna."
I did, closing my eyes and trying to calm down.
"My offer stands," Yekaterina said. "Think about it and text me."
"Okay. Thanks."
"Anytime. Love you."
"Love you too."
I hung up, shoved the phone in my pocket, and headed upstairs to Sofia's room. I pushed the door open gently and found her awake, sitting up in bed, working intently on something in her drawing pad.
"Baby, did you sleep well?"
"Mommy!" She looked up, face bright with excitement. "I had the most amazing dream!"
"What kind of dream?" I sat on the bed's edge.
"I dreamed about Alex!" she said excitedly, then handed me her drawing pad. "Look, I drew the three of us!"
I looked at her picture—three stick figures holding hands, one was her, one was me, and one was Alexander. Childish, but full of innocent joy.
"Mommy," she put down her crayon, eyes sparkling as she looked at me, "I want Alex to be my daddy. Can he?"
The direct request caught me completely off guard.
After a moment of stunned silence, I asked, "Sweetheart, why do you want that?"
"Because he's super nice!" She counted on her little fingers. "He brings me presents, plays with me, and tells really funny stories. And..."
She paused, then said seriously, "His eyes are brown like mine! My teacher says people with the same color eyes might be family!"
My heart clenched.
"And, and," she continued excitedly, "when he stayed with me at the hospital, I felt so safe. Like he really loves me. Mommy, does he want a daughter, too?"
She tilted her head. "If he wants to be my daddy, then I'd have a daddy! Just like the other kids in my class!"
Tears started welling up. This five-year-old child, in her most innocent way, was expressing her longing for a father's love.
"Sofia," I stroked her hair, "do you really, really like Alex?"
"Super, super much!" She nodded vigorously. "He's the best grown-up in the whole world except for you and Godmother! If he could be my daddy, he'd be the best daddy ever!"
Then she suddenly grabbed my hand, eyes full of hope. "Mommy, can you ask him if he wants to? Like in fairy tales—he could marry you and then we'd be a real family!"
My heart completely melted.
Looking at her hopeful eyes, at her drawing of our little family, I suddenly understood what Yekaterina had been saying. Sofia longed for a father. And Alexander... Alexander was her father.
"Baby," I took a deep breath, "Mommy will talk to Alex today, okay?"
"Really? Really?" She bounced on the bed with excitement. "You'll ask if he wants to be my daddy?"
"Mommy will have a good talk with him," I said. "Now get dressed. Time for lunch."
"Okay!" She obediently raised her little arms so I could pull on her fluffy sweater. "Mommy, if Alex says yes, can we be like other families?"
"Maybe, little one. Maybe."
I watched Sofia hop out the door like an excited bunny, sighed helplessly, then grabbed my phone and texted Yekaterina.
"I've decided. Can you come over soon?"
She replied almost instantly. "On my way!"
Seven o'clock sharp, Alexander arrived.
"Alex!" Sofia ran to him excitedly. "You came!"
"Of course. I promised you," he crouched down to hug her. "How are you feeling today?"
"Much better! I want to show you my new drawing!"
Alexander smiled at her. "That would be my honor."
"Godmother's here too," Sofia pulled Alexander along, saying excitedly, "She said she wants to watch a movie with you."
Yekaterina emerged from the kitchen, nodding at Alexander with a friendly smile.
Dinner was warm and cozy, but I was distracted, constantly thinking about how to bring up what I needed to say.
After dinner, I got Sofia a bedtime book.
"Sweetheart, you read with Godmother," I said. "Mommy and Alex need to talk."
Yekaterina gave me an encouraging look.
I glanced at Alexander. "Can we go upstairs and talk?"
In my bedroom, I closed the door and leaned against it. My hands were trembling, heart pounding like thunder.
"Anna," Alexander said, "you look nervous. What's going on?"
I took a deep breath and looked straight into his eyes. This was the point of no return.
"Alex, I have something to tell you. About Sofia."
His expression grew serious. "What is it?"
I bit my lip, then lifted my head to meet his eyes directly. "Sofia is your daughter."
The room fell into dead silence.
Alexander just stood there, his expression slowly shifting from shock to something more complex. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again.
"I know," he said quietly.
"What?" I froze.
"From the first moment I saw her, I suspected," he slowly walked to the window, turning his back to me. "Her eyes, her smile... too similar. But I was waiting for you to tell me."
His voice was calm, but I could hear the pain underneath.
"Five years, Anna," he turned to face me, eyes full of complex emotions. "Five whole years. Do you know what it felt like when I realized the truth?"
I bit my lip as tears started flowing. "I'm so sorry—"
"I'm not blaming you," he interrupted, walking over to sit on the bed's edge. "I think I understand the position you were in. A twenty-one-year-old girl, facing pregnancy alone... that must have been terrifying."
His understanding made me feel even more guilty. "Alex..."
"But," he looked up at me, "now I know. Now everything's different."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I want to make up for those lost five years," his voice became firm. "I want to really know her, be part of her life. Not as the neighbor, but as her father."
I could feel the determination in his words, but there was no threat, only deep longing.
"I understand what you're thinking," I said, "but Sofia doesn't know the truth yet. We can't suddenly—"
"I know," he nodded. "I won't tell her impulsively. But Anna, I need you to give me a chance. A real chance to know my daughter."
Looking at the sincerity in his eyes, my heart softened a little. "What kind of chance?"
"Let me be part of her daily life," he said. "Not just occasional visits. I want to pick her up from school, help with homework, hear about her day. I want to be an important part of her life, even if she doesn't know my real identity yet."
"Alex, isn't that too fast?"
"For me, it's already five years too late," he said softly, without accusation. "But I understand your concerns. We can take it slow, at whatever pace you're comfortable with."
His gentleness surprised me.
"You're... not angry?" I asked carefully.
He was quiet for a moment. "Angry? Of course. I'm angry I missed her first steps, her first words, her helplessness when she was sick. But more than that... I feel regret."
He stood up and walked over to me. "Anna, I don't want to waste time on blame. I just want to start doing what a father should do, from now on."
"Even if I need time to make sure you're serious?"
"Even if you need to test me," he nodded. "I understand you want to protect her. But please give me a chance to prove myself."
Looking at the sincerity in his eyes, my defenses slowly crumbled.
"Okay," I said, "but I have conditions."
"What conditions?"
"We take it slow. Start as friends, increase the time together gradually, see how you two get along. When to tell her the truth is my decision."
"I agree," he nodded without hesitation. "Any other conditions?"
"I need you to promise that Sofia's feelings always come first. If she feels uncomfortable or confused, we stop and reassess."
"Of course," his expression was completely serious. "Her happiness matters more than anything."
We looked at each other as the tension in the air slowly dissolved.
"Alex," I said softly, "do you want to know everything about her? Everything that happened these five years?"
His eyes lit up. "Yes. I want to know everything. From the moment she was born."
We sat on the bed's edge as I began telling the story of these five years. He listened intently, asking occasional questions, his eyes full of longing for his daughter and regret for lost time.
"When did she start walking?"
"Eleven months. Earlier than most kids."
"What's she afraid of?"
"Thunder, and the dark. But she holds her doll and pretends to be brave."
Every detail helped him know this daughter he'd missed for five years.
"What about you?" he finally asked. "These five years... was there anyone else?"
I shook my head. "No. I put all my energy into Sofia."
"Why?"
"Because... because no one could make me forget that night," I admitted.
His expression grew tender. "I had a relationship once, but it ended long ago."
"Why?"
"Because she wasn't you," he said. "For five years, I've been thinking about you, Anna. About that night, about what would happen if I could see you again."
My heart started racing.
"I know the situation's complicated," he continued, "but I want you to know my feelings for you never changed."
We stared at each other as that five-year-old attraction flowed between us again. Slowly, he reached out to touch my cheek.
"Anna..." he said softly.
I didn't pull away. Instead, I found myself leaning toward him...