Page 64 of Missed Communication

“You don’t need to,” I insist. “She’s my daughter, even if I’m not biologically the father.”

“Wait, what’s happening?” Aubrey glances between her doctor, the nurse, and me, then looks down at our little girl again. “Are you saying Jamie’s her father?”

“I’m her father, no matter what,” I remind her.

“If you’d like Jamie to be on the birth certificate, we can put a rush on a paternity test,” her doctor offers. “It’s up to you.”

Aubrey kisses Alanis’ forehead, whispering, “He’s right, little one; it doesn’t matter, he’s your daddy.” Her eyes meet mine again, and she adds, “We’re doing the test. For months, I tortured myself, hating how she wasn’t biologically yours. I wished every single day that she was. If there’s a chance she is—and there is a very big chance she is since she has your eyes—I want your name on the birth certificate.”

“Are you sure?”

She reaches for my wrist, turning it over and tapping the rose. “You’ve loved me and this beautiful daughter of ours since thebeginning. Even if it comes back that we’re wrong and it’s just some weird recessive gene surfacing, you’re her father. We’ll have you officially adopt her like we discussed, but what if we don't have to?”

I lean forward and kiss her, my heart bursting with so much love I’m afraid my body can’t contain it. The best day of my life was our wedding day, until now.

The doctor clears her throat, and I pull back, sitting beside Aubrey again. “I’m sorry, but we’ll need to get your wife cleaned up. I’ll order the test, and you can always change your mind.”

Aubrey hands our daughter to me, and her bright brown eyes flutter closed. It doesn’t matter what the tests say, this beautiful child and my extraordinary wife are both mine, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure they never doubt it.