Swal owing the lump in my throat, I held onto the table in front of me, forcing myself to speak. “Lizzie, I’m so sorry.” Even if it hadn’t always been the case, even if I’d spent the first five years of her life wondering about her, longing for her, there had been a day I’d believed this child would ruin my life. “It’s okay, Daddy.” There was nothing okay about what I’d done, but I accepted it as her way of tel ing me she’d already forgiven me. I leaned heavily against the table, lowering myself so I could look up at my child’s face. “I need you to know, Lizzie, that as long as I live I wil never leave you again. Do you understand?” She smiled a simple smile, one of sincerity and trust. “I know that, Daddy.” She grinned and asked if she could have another soda. It was just after three when I pul ed into the spot with my name engraved on a silver plaque in the parking garage of my building. I jammed the up button several times, wil ing the elevator to hurry.
