And he never demanded that Emily call him Dad.
He simply became the person she trusted.
He taught her chess.
He helped her with homework.
He attended school events.
When she got sick, he sat beside her bed all night.
When she lost her first tooth, he acted more excited than she did.
When she was eleven, she asked him a question that made him go silent.
“Richard?”
“Yes?”
“Can I call you Dad?”
He looked at me.
I covered my mouth.
Richard’s eyes filled with tears.
“You can call me whatever feels right.”
Emily hugged him.
He held her tightly.
And I understood something.
Richard hadn’t simply married me.
He had chosen both of us.
Still, there were secrets.
Sometimes I’d catch him looking at an old photograph.
Sometimes he’d ask strange questions about my childhood.
Sometimes he’d disappear into his study and close the door.
