“Today I’m marrying the woman who finally gave me a real family,” Adrian said with a laugh on the other end of the line.
My newborn daughter slept against my chest, still rosy from birth, her tiny fists curled tight like she had entered the world already prepared to defend herself. Rain tapped against the hospital window, and the sharp scent of disinfectant mixed with the wilted carnations my mother had left beside the bed in our private room at a hospital in Brooklyn.
I almost ignored the call.
But
