Page 40 of Embrace Me Forever

Pouring two glasses, I extend one to her. “Are you sure I can’t help with anything?”

She now appears considerably more at ease. “Actually, why don’t you relax in the living room?”

Despite her lifting mood, I sense she still prefers solitude. I make myself scarce and pad to the living room.

Georgia-May steps in with Coco, and the atmosphere shifts palpably with their entrance. Inside, a surge of unfamiliar joy floods through me. Among the three, Coco is the only one likely to offer me carefree attention. Her gaze meets mine with that pure, innocent curiosity only a child can muster. At this moment, I realize she’s the one who will break my heart over and over—in a different way than her mother and aunt might.

Coco’s mouth forms a perfect ‘O,’ like she’s trying to figure out why this unknown man is here. Her sleepy-then-alert expression, coupled with her earnest gaze, disarms me more effectively than any security clearance could.

“Hello, little one,” I greet her in the sweetest tone I can muster.

Then, her small voice cuts straight through me, saying a word I never expected to hear in my lifetime. I’m certain I heardit right—daddy—because Georgia-May blushes, almost turning her daughter around.

“That’s Blake.” Georgia-May pivots as she recovers from the moment that stunned us both. “Say hi, Blake.”

Still reeling from the girl’s innocent mistake, I reluctantly drain the honeyed warmth pooling in my chest. I give her a small wave.

Coco hides her face in her mother’s shoulder for a moment before peeking out again, her eyes wide but now tinged with a shy smile. I don’t believe Georgia-May is the type to exploit her daughter’s charm to win a man’s affections, to sway my feelings about us, but if she tried, by God, she would have succeeded.

“Black,” the little girl murmurs.

Georgia-May laughs, calmly correcting her daughter. But honestly, the little girl has unwittingly given me a fitting nickname. I’m far from innocent inside. Yet, in the presence of this mother and daughter, perhaps something within me glimpses a sliver of light.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” I ask, catching her tiny wave with my fingertips. She’s so delicate, so pure.

“Coco,” she announces.

“Hi, Coco,” I whisper back, feeling pulses inside as if my heart is smiling. Turning to Georgia-May, I realize my earlier judgment was off. It isn’t just Coco who’s welcoming me with such affection. Her mother’s demeanor has transformed as well. I’ve never seen Georgia-May’s face so light, so open.

“How old is she?” I’ve already researched Coco, but the question escapes anyway—partly because it’s a natural thing to ask and partly because I don’t want to be mistaken.

“Well, she’ll be twenty months old next week,” Georgia-May replies. “Right?” She gives her daughter a little tickle, then realizes that her attention is fixed on me, unyielding. Then, with a subtle shift, Coco turns toward her mother, her eyes seekingsilent consent for what she wishes next. Understanding the unspoken request, Georgia-May prepares Coco, easing her into position. “Would you hold her, please?”

My stance stiffens. Coco looks so delicate with the stitches tracing her scalp. I’ve never held such a young child before, and the fear of doing something wrong is overwhelming.

Georgia-May catches the hesitation in my eyes. “Please,” she implores. “I need to take a shower.”

“Love you,” the baby mumbles to me. Or at least I think that’s what she tried to say.

“Did she just say—” I start to ask, but my question trails off.

Georgia-May smiles at Coco, clearly surprised herself. “You like him, huh? You stay with Blake while I take my shower, okay?” she says, passing her to me.

My instinct to refuse melts away seeing the little girl’s bright eyes, eager to reach me as if I’m her new best friend. As Coco settles into my lap, she struggles to find her balance, her legs unresponsive.

“The removal of her tumor has affected her legs’ mobility,” Georgia-May explains.

That disclosure grips me. This girl in my arms is far too young to face such trials. Almost reflexively, I lean down and press a heartfelt kiss on her forehead.

Georgia-May purrs in response. “She’s going to have her first therapy session tomorrow. The doctors are adamant she’ll walk again.”

“You’re strong, aren’t you?” I murmur to the little girl.Just like your mother.

Georgia-May walks away, sending her daughter a reassuring smile. Meanwhile, Coco makes a valiant attempt to stand but finds herself faltering. Her frustration mounts. I can’t imagine what I would do if I was in her shoes. The simple joys once within her grasp now seem like mountains.

“Here, here.” I slide my hands gently under her armpits to support her. Her eyes sparkle with delight as she finds herself suspended over my lap, suddenly towering above her usual height.

Coco meets my gaze, then points at the floor. “Walk.”

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