Now

"We're home, baby girl," I murmur as I struggle to unlock my front door and simultaneously hold Annaleigh while she reaches with all the desperate desire in her baby heart for the shiny key ring. I wonder if Bob is watching.

"Do you know you have another grandpa, besides Grandpa Phil?" I whisper into the crook of her neck as the door clicks open.

A few early cicadas sing around us in the blue haze of dusk. Even though it's only Sunday evening, and we've only been apart for three days, my baby girl feels so different, like she's learned all kinds of stuff without me. She seems more alert, and she's making new sounds. She slept through the night for Vanessa, which she's never done for me. She got up on all fours and started to crawl. I nearly lost it, hearing how much I missed. Phil was stoic as ever as we waved goodbye, even in the face of the news of his son's death, but Vanessa cried. I promised to update them with details on the memorial service as soon as I make plans.

The house smells stale as I step inside after my strange two-day absence. Two days that have felt like two years. Captain's absence feels strange, too; I'll have to stop by Bob's later to get him back. And maybe recover the other side of the baby monitor and Annaleigh's blanket while I'm at it.

"Ka-ka!" shrieks Annaleigh, waving her arms as I hang my keys on the peg by the kitchen door.

I kiss her cheek. "You are so much bigger! What is going on? Did they feed you Miracle-Gro?"

She opens her mouth and kind of body-slams forward, hitting my shirt repeatedly. I feel a surge of nerves and desire. I haven't tried to nurse yet, and I'm slightly terrified. I don't know all the details of what Eden adjusted, and how that will play out in my body with things like breastfeeding. Periods. Sleep. Aging.

I have a lot to think about. At this point, I don't ever want my dampers back on. On the other hand, if my aging process is affected, someone is bound to notice. I need to think through what will actually make me more vulnerable long-term. Not to mention my daughter, who I did all of this for. If I'm strong and beautiful and never age, will she grow up in my shadow feeling less than? If she never sees me coping with being sick and tired, will she enter the world less equipped?

I don't want weakness. But my daughter is weak by nature. Should I change myself back so I'm more like her? Or should she simply accept me as I am, and learn that my strength doesn't make me better, just different?

What if she slips up, years down the road? Reveals to someone what her mother is really like?

"Ka-ka," she shrieks, banging me on the chest.

"Alright, baby girl," I murmur, dumping the diaper bag in the kitchen and moving to the closest window. We need some fresh air.

"Ga?" says Annaleigh as I wrestle the window open. She's looking at Captain's bowl.

"Oh my God! Did you just say..."

"Ga!" she repeats, pleased, then claps her fat hands together.

"You said dog! You clapped! Oh my God!"

"Ga! Ga! Ga!" she shrieks, and I'm smiling so hard my face hurts.

It's impossible to imagine Annaleigh betraying me. But it's also impossible to imagine her as an independent-minded adult when right now she's so small and trusting.

Eden is the one person who knows about my damper removal, the one person I could process some of this with. But last time we talked, she wanted my dampers back on. If I reach out to her, or let her back into my system to make adjustments, will she try to control me like Andy did?

Anyway, she has her work cut out as the new acting CEO of WekTech, which has been headline national news because of Andy's death. As far as the media is concerned, Andy decided he was in love with me and lost his mind with jealousy. Texts between Andy and Josh have been leaked, and between Andy and me, and people are already screenshotting moments from The Proposal when Andy and I were captured together. Apparently the world is primed to buy a creator-falls-for-his-creation story. From my five minutes of scrolling through my news feed this morning, memes of the two of us are everywhere, like the one of him walking me down the aisle with a distinctly tortured expression. The caption practically writes itself.

"Ma! Ka-ka! Ga!" Annaleigh cries, thumping her hands against my chest again.

"Okay, I know you're hungry. Let's give it a try," I say as I pad upstairs to our familiar spot in the rocker. Annaleigh knows exactly what to do, and when I lift my shirt, there's a ghost of a tingle in my chest.

Please work, I pray as she sets to. Then I take a deep breath, and it happens.

As I finally relax, feelings sweep through me.

I miss Josh.

Damn it, I miss him.

I'm mad at him and I miss him, and I have the feeling I'll live the rest of my life holding those two things, along with the strong pull of what-if. Could we have worked it out? Was it just going to be those two times, or would there have been more? Was he strong enough to overcome that challenge? Was I? And would I really have killed him if there had been a third time?

No. The coding might have tugged at me, but I know myself. My love would have been stronger.

Annaleigh pulls off to give me a big, gummy smile.

"I'm glad we're back together, too," I say.

We switch sides. She gets drowsy. I guess it's her bedtime, though I don't want it to be, not yet.

When I lay her in her crib, she goes into her favorite position on her side, one leg draped over the other, hand fisted in her blankie. I stand there for a long time, holding a palm over my heart, because it feels like my love is going to jump out of my chest.

I wonder what the future holds, now that it's just us.

I also wonder if Annaleigh will have any inkling of what's going on, whenever we do the memorial for Josh. Maybe the Proposal crew can film it. It's weird to want the cameras right now, but somehow, I do. A definite conclusion to our love story. Something Annaleigh can look back on as an adult, to see her father held up as someone well regarded and well loved. Maybe Cam can give the eulogy. I'll text her tonight.

And after we close the chapter that was Josh, and our too-brief love story? A dozen different futures run through my head as I look at my daughter's sleeping form.

I could finally leave Indiana.

Escape from the haters and graffiti artists, not to mention Mitchell.

I could sell this house and move literally anywhere else in the country. Christi has been texting me real estate links all day. We could be neighbors!!

I could get a job, try to have a career. Move to Texas, go out on weekends with Cam and her wild crew.

The sad thing is, none of these options actually seem appealing.

What I actually want is what Josh wanted. Those acres. Trees and chickens and the simple, spacious life on the property he chose, the place he dreamed of for us.

I lean down and kiss my baby's warm cheek, letting my worries float away in the delight of this sensation, this heaven that is my lips on her skin. She sighs and turns onto her back. Her face is rosy. Her eyelashes sweep her cheeks.

"I love you," I whisper.

And my love for her, more than anything, is who I am.