A single father is rejected on a blind date during Christmas — then a woman asks, “Can you be my husband?”
Christmas night. >> Adrien sat frozen as his blind date stood up in the crowded restaurant. You’re not my type. No apology, no mercy, she walked out, leaving him alone in the familiar humiliation of another failed setup. A single dad, rejected again, he stood to leave. Then a woman’s voice cut through the noise, clear and calm.
Can you be my new husband? Audrean turned, stunned. A stranger sat at the next table, looking straight at him. That Christmas night. Could it be the beginning of a new family? The woman sat alone at the table beside him, dark hair pulled back, sharp suit. She looked out of place in this casual restaurant, like she belonged somewhere with white tablecloths and wine lists thicker than phone books.
Adrienne stared at her. “Excuse me, can you be my new husband?” Leila Hart repeated. No smile. No joke in her eyes. Adrienne’s throat went dry. I don’t understand. I heard everything, Ila said. She nodded toward the empty chair across from Adrienne. Your date. What she said to you. Heat crawled up Adrienne’s neck.
The humiliation doubled. A stranger had witnessed it all. He grabbed his coat. I need to go. Wait. Ila stood. Not desperate. Just firm. I’m serious about my question. Adrienne froze. He looked at her again. Really looked. She was maybe 35. Confident posture, expensive watch. Everything about her screamed success.
And she was asking him to marry her. You’re insane, Adrienne said. Probably. Ila tilted her head. But I’m also very alone. And so are you. The words hit harder than they should have. Adrienne had spent 6 years alone. 6 years since Kate died. 6 years raising Lily by himself. He tried dating. He really did.
Every single time, the same result. The women would smile at first, then he’d mention Lily. The shift happened fast. Polite interest turned into careful distance. Tonight’s date had been the worst. She took one look at the photo of Lily on his phone and said, “You’re not my type.” Then she left. Now this stranger stood in front of him asking him to marry her.
“Sit down,” Ila said. “Let me buy you dinner.” Something in her voice stopped him. She wasn’t pitying him. She just sounded tired. Like she understood. He sat back down. Ila ordered wine without asking what he wanted. When the waiter left, she folded her hands on the table. “My family has been pressuring me to get married for 3 years,” Ila said.
They parade eligible men in front of me at every holiday dinner like I’m supposed to pick one off a shelf. Adrienne said nothing. Every man I’ve dated only wanted two things. Ila continued. My money or my connections. I built my company from nothing. And now that it’s successful, everyone wants a piece of it. The waiter brought the wine.
Ila picked up her glass but didn’t drink. I want a family, she said quietly. A real one, not a transaction. just people who care about each other. Adrienne knew that feeling, that ache for something whole. Why me? He asked. I know you have a daughter, Ila said. I heard you talking about her before your date showed up.
You said she drew you a picture of a reindeer this morning. Adrienne blinked. He had said that. I can’t have children. Ila said. The words came out flat. Medical condition. Irreversible. When I told my ex- fiance, he called off the wedding, said he wanted a real family. Adrienne’s anger flared. That’s horrible. It is, Ila agreed. But it’s also reality.
You have a daughter who needs a mother. I want a child, but can’t have one. You keep getting rejected for having a kid. I keep getting rejected for not being able to have them, she set down her glass. It makes sense, she said simply. we could help each other. Adrienne stared at her. She was serious. You don’t know me, he said.
Then let’s fix that, Ila said. Give me your number. Let me meet your daughter. Let’s see if this insane idea could actually work. Adrienne’s hands trembled. This was crazy. But she wasn’t looking at him like he was broken. She was looking at him like he might be the answer. I don’t know, Adrienne said. You don’t have to know, Ila said. Just give me a chance.
They ate. They talked. Ila told him about her software company. Started in her garage 10 years ago. Now 200 employees. Adrienne told her about Lily. 7 years old. Loved drawing. Hated broccoli. When they finished eating, Ila pulled out her phone. “Your number,” she said. Adrienne hesitated. Then he gave it to her. “I mean it,” she said.
“I want to meet Lily. Why are you doing this? Adrienne asked one more time. Ila stood. Put on her coat. Looked him straight in the eye. Because I’m tired of being alone, she said. And I think you are too. She left cash on the table and walked out. Adrienne sat there staring at the text on his phone. This is Ila. Call me when you’re ready.
For the first time in 6 years, he felt something other than resignation. He felt hope. Adrien didn’t call for 3 days. On the fourth day, Ila called him. “You’re overthinking this,” she said when he answered. Adrienne sat on hiscouch in the dark. “How do you know?” “Because I’ve been doing the same thing,” Ila admitted.
“I almost deleted your number twice.” “I have a daughter,” Adrienne said. “She’s been through enough. You’ll never be sure,” Ila said quietly. “You just have to decide if it’s worth the risk.” Silence stretched between them. Saturday. Adrienne finally said, “There’s a park near my house. 10:00 in the morning. I’ll be there. Saturday came too fast.
” Adrienne made Lily her favorite breakfast. “Chocolate chip pancakes.” “We’re meeting someone at the park today,” Adrienne said, trying to sound casual. Lily looked up. “Who?” “A friend of mine.” “Her name is Ila.” “Lila showed up exactly on time. She wore jeans and a sweater instead of a suit. Her hair was down.
She looked softer somehow. Lily ran ahead to the pond. Adrienne and Ila walked side by side. “Thank you for coming,” Adrienne said. They watched Lily throw breadcrumbs to the ducks. She laughed when one of them waddled too close. Lily came running back. “Dad, that duck is so fat.” Then she noticed Ila. Her face went curious.
“Hi,” Lily said. “Are you my dad’s friend?” I am, Ila said. She crouched down to Lily’s eye level. My name is Ila. What’s yours? Lily. That’s a beautiful name. Thank you. I’m named after a flower. I know, Ila said. Lilies are my favorite. Lily’s face lit up. Really? Just like that, the ice broke. Lily started chattering about the ducks, about school, about her drawings.
Ila listened to every word. Adrienne watched them, something warm growing in his chest. After the park, Lily asked if Ila wanted to see her room. Adrienne almost said no, but Ila said yes before he could stop it. His house felt smaller with Ila in it. She stood in the living room looking at the photos on the wall.
Most of them were of Lily. A few were of Kate. She was beautiful, Ila said softly. Yeah, Adrienne managed. She was. Lily’s room was an explosion of color. Drawings covered every surface. “Wow,” Ila said. “I like to draw,” Lily said proudly. They stayed for an hour. Ila sat on the floor with Lily and drew with her. She wasn’t good at it.
Her rabbit looked more like a deformed potato, but Lily thought it was hilarious. When Ila left, Lily hugged her goodbye. “Can she come back?” Lily asked after Ila drove away. Adrien looked down at his daughter. Do you want her to? Yeah, she’s nice. Ila came back the next weekend and the weekend after that. It became a routine.
Saturday mornings, Adrienne started to relax, started to let himself believe this might actually work. But late at night, when Lily was asleep, the fear crept in. He’d sit in the living room and stare at Kate’s photo. What would she think of this? of him moving on. One night after Lily went to bed, Ila stayed for coffee.
“Can I ask you something?” Ila said. “Sure. Do you think about her when I’m here?” Adrienne’s hands tightened around his mug. “Yes. Does it bother you?” “Sometimes I feel like I’m betraying her,” Adrienne said honestly. “Like I’m replacing her.” “You’re not replacing her,” Ila said quietly. “You can’t replace someone who is loved. That’s not how it works.
She told him about her own mother and how her father eventually found love again. How it didn’t erase the past. It just helped them keep living. “I’m not trying to replace Kate,” Ila said. “I’m just trying to be part of your lives. If you’ll let me, I want to,” Adrienne said. “I just don’t know if I’m ready.” “No one’s ever ready,” Ila said.
She reached across the table. “But maybe we can figure it out together.” Adrienne looked at her hand. then at her face. She looked scared, hopeful, vulnerable. He took her hand. 2 months later, Ila invited them to dinner at her parents’ house. “It’s time,” she said one night. “They want to meet you,” Adrienne’s stomach dropped.
“Are you sure?” “No,” Ila admitted. “But we can’t avoid them forever. What have you told them? That I’m seeing someone? That it’s serious? You didn’t mention Lily?” Ila’s face went tight. I wanted them to meet you both first. See how good this is before they start judging. Warning bells went off in Adrienne’s head. Judging? My family has certain expectations.
Ila said carefully. They won’t understand at first, but once they see us together, they’ll come around. Adrienne wanted to believe her. The dinner was Friday night. Ila’s parents lived in a mansion, circular driveway, columns by the front door. Lily pressed her face against the car window.
“Wow, is this where Ila grew up?” “I guess so,” Adrienne said. His hands were sweating. Ila met them at the door in a dress and heels, hair pulled back. She looked like she had that first night in the restaurant. Polished, untouchable. She led them inside. Marble floors, crystal chandeliers, art on the walls that probably cost more than his car.
Ila’s mother stood in the living room, tall, elegant, wearing pearls and an expression that could freeze water. “Mother,” Ila said. “This is Adrien, and this is Lily.” Her mother’s eyes sweptover them, lingered on Lily. Something cold flickered across her face. “How lovely,” she said. Her voice matched her expression. “Please sit down.
” Ila’s father appeared. He shook Adrienne’s hand. The grip was firm. Evaluating, they sat in the formal dining room. Seven courses, three different forks. Lily looked overwhelmed. The conversation started politely. Ila’s father asked about Adrienne’s job. Accounting mid-level position. Nothing impressive.
And you’re raising your daughter alone? Ila’s mother asked. Her tone made it sound like an accusation. Yes, Adrienne said. My wife passed away 6 years ago. I’m sorry for your loss. No real sympathy behind the words. Lily sat quietly picking at her food. Lily is very talented, Ila said, trying to shift the conversation.
She’s an incredible artist. How nice, Ila’s mother said. Then to Adrien. And how old is she? Seven. Such a formative age. Children that age need stability, structure, a proper family unit. Adrienne’s jaw tightened. She has that, does she? Ila’s father leaned back. A single father working a modest job, no mother figure. That hardly seems ideal.
Father, Ila started. I’m just being realistic, Ila. He cut her off. You can’t ignore facts. The fact is Lily is happy and well cared for, Ila said, her voice sharp. For now, her mother said. But what about her future? Can you provide those things? This last question was directed at Adrien. I do my best, Adrienne said. Your best? Her mother smiled.
It didn’t reach her eyes. Ila deserves more than someone’s best. She deserves exceptional. She’s built an empire. She comes from a good family, and you want her to throw that away to play mother to someone else’s child? The words hit like a slap. Lily’s fork clattered against her plate. Her eyes were wide, wet.
Excuse me, Adrienne said. He stood. Lily, come on. We’re leaving. Adrien. Ila stood too. No. Adrienne’s voice came out harder than he meant. This was a mistake. Please don’t go, Ila said. Let me talk to them. talk to them,” Adrienne gestured at her parents. “They just called my daughter a burden.” “There’s nothing to talk about.
They just need time,” Ila said desperately. “They understand perfectly,” Adrienne said. “We’re not good enough for you. And maybe they’re right. Don’t say that.” Adrienne took Lily’s hand. She was crying silently. “I’m sorry,” he said to put Lily through this, he walked out. Ila called after him, but he didn’t stop. In the car, Lily sobbed.
“They hate me. They don’t hate you,” Adrienne said, even though it felt like a lie. “They just don’t know you. They think I’m bad. They think I’m making everything wrong.” “Adrienne’s heart shattered. He’d brought her into that situation, exposed her to people who looked at her like she wasn’t good enough. Ila called that night.
Adrienne didn’t answer. She called the next day and the next left voicemails, sent texts. I’m so sorry. Please let me explain. They were wrong. Please don’t shut me out. Adrienne deleted them all. On the fourth day, Ila showed up at his house. He opened the door but didn’t invite her in. “What do you want?” he asked. Ila looked terrible.
Dark circles under her eyes, hair messy. “I want to fix this,” she said. You can’t. Yes, I can. I talked to my parents. I told them they were completely out of line. An apology won’t change what they think. Adrienne said they made it very clear. Lily and I aren’t good enough. And you know what? They’re probably right.
Don’t say that. Why not? Adrienne’s voice rose. It’s true. Look at us, Ila. You live in pen houses and I rent a three-bedroom house. You run a company and I push papers in a cubicle. We don’t fit in your world. I don’t care about any of that. But your family does, Adrienne said. And they always will. Every holiday, every family event will be the outsiders. Lily will feel it.
I saw her face at that dinner. I won’t put her through that again. Ila’s eyes filled with tears. So that’s it. You’re just giving up? I’m protecting my daughter by pushing me away. Your family will never accept us,” Adrienne said flatly. “And I won’t make Lily live in a family where she’s treated like she’s not good enough.
” “What about what I want?” Ila’s voice broke. “What about what Lily wants? She loves me. I know she does, and I love her. Doesn’t that matter? It’s not enough,” Adrienne said. His chest achd. “Love isn’t enough when the world keeps telling a seven-year-old that she’s not wanted. My parents aren’t the world.
They’re your world, Adrienne said. I won’t subject Lily to a lifetime of that. Ila stood there, tears streaming. So, you’re choosing for her? You’re not even going to ask what she wants? She’s seven. She doesn’t understand. She understands more than you think. Ila wiped her eyes. She understands that someone cares about her.
And you’re taking that away because you’re scared. I’m being realistic. You’re being a coward. The word hung in the air. Adrienne’s hands shook. “Get out, Adrien. Get out of my house. We’redone.” Ila stared at him. Then she turned and walked away. Adrienne closed the door and leaned against it. His whole body trembled. “From upstairs.” He heard Lily’s door open.
She must have been listening. Her footsteps came down the stairs. “Dad?” Her voice was small. Adrienne turned. Lily stood on the bottom step holding her stuffed rabbit. “Is Ila gone?” Lily asked. “Yeah, forever.” Adrienne’s throat closed up. “Yeah, probably.” Lily’s face crumpled. “But I don’t want her to go.” “I know, sweetheart.
But it’s complicated.” “Is it because of me?” Lily asked. “Because her parents don’t like me.” “No, it’s not because of you.” “Yes, it is.” Tears rolled down Lily’s cheeks. They said I was bad. They said you can’t give me good things. They said Ila shouldn’t be with us because of me. They were wrong.
Then why did you let them win? Lily shouted. It was the first time Adrienne had ever heard her yell. Why did you make Ila leave? She was nice to me. She made me happy. And you sent her away. I was trying to protect you. I don’t want protection. Lily screamed. I want Ila. I want her to come back. I want her to be my mom.
She ran upstairs. Her door slammed. Adrienne stood in the empty hallway, the weight of what he’d done crushing down on him. He’d wanted to protect Lily from rejection, from feeling unwanted, but instead he’d taken away the one person who’d made her feel whole. He’d made Lily feel like she wasn’t good enough, like she was the reason good things couldn’t happen.
Adrienne sank to the floor, his head in his hands. What had he done? Three days passed in silence. Lily barely spoke to him. The light had gone out of her eyes. She stopped drawing. That’s what broke Adrien. When he walked past her room and saw her art supplies untouched. On the fourth night, Adrienne’s sister Sarah came over.
She took one look at him and shook her head. “You look like hell,” she said. “Thanks. Where’s Lily?” “Upstairs.” “Avoiding me.” Sarah sat on the couch. “What happened?” Adrienne told her everything. When he finished, Sarah was quiet for a long time. “You’re an idiot,” she finally said. “I was trying to protect Lily from what? From being happy.
” Sarah leaned forward. “You just taught her that she’s the reason you can’t be happy. That loving her means sacrificing everything else.” The words hit like a punch. “That’s not what I meant, but that’s what she learned.” Sarah’s voice softened. Adrien, I love you. You’re a great father, but sometimes you’re so busy protecting Lily from imaginary future pain that you’re causing real pain right now. Leila’s parents hate us.
So what? So they’re terrible people. That doesn’t mean you have to let them win. You’re teaching Lily that when things get hard, you just give up. Adrienne’s hands shook. What if it doesn’t work? What if Lily gets hurt? What if she doesn’t? Sarah countered. “What if you’re throwing away the best thing that’s happened to you in years because you’re too scared to fight for it?” She stood up.
Kate would have fought,” she said quietly. “She would have told those people exactly where they could shove their judgment. She would have chosen love. She would have been brave. She headed for the door, stopped, looked back. Be brave, Adrien. For Lily, for yourself, for Ila.” She left. Adrien sat in the silence, Sarah’s words echoing.
Be brave, he thought about Kate. Really thought about her. Not the sanitized memory. But the real woman, fierce, strong, unafraid. She would have fought. She would have protected Lily while still choosing happiness. And what had he done? He’d run. He’d let fear make his decisions. He’d failed both Lily and Ila. But maybe it wasn’t too late.
Adrienne went upstairs, knocked on Lily’s door. “Go away,” she said. “Lily, please. I need to talk to you.” “Silence!” “I made a mistake,” Adrienne said through the door. “A big one, and I need your help to fix it.” The door opened slowly. Lily stood there, her eyes red from crying. “What mistake?” she asked.
“I let fear make my decisions,” Adrienne said. I was so scared of you getting hurt that I pushed away someone who loves you. Ila, Lily whispered. Yeah, Ila. Adrienne knelt down to her level. I was wrong. Her parents were terrible. But that doesn’t mean Ila is like them. That doesn’t mean we have to let them win. But they hate me.
They don’t know you, Adrienne said. And even if they never change, that doesn’t make them right. You are good enough. You are amazing. And anyone who can’t see that doesn’t matter. Lily’s lip trembled. Do you really mean that? I really do. Adrienne took her hands. I love you more than anything. And I thought protecting you meant keeping you away from people who might hurt you. But I was wrong.
Real protection means teaching you to stand up to those people, to know your own worth, to fight for what matters. Ila matters, Lily said. She does. Adrienne swallowed hard. So, I need to know something. Do you still want Ila in your life? Even knowing her family mightnever accept us. Lily nodded immediately. Yes, I want her.
I don’t care about her mean parents. I just want Ila. Then I’m going to fight for her. Adrienne said, “I’m going to try to make this right, but she might not forgive me. She’ll forgive you,” Lily said with seven-year-old certainty. “She loves us. I hope you’re right.” Lily threw her arms around his neck.
Adrienne held her tight. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.” “It’s okay,” Lily said. “Just get Ila back.” Adrienne called Ila that night. She didn’t answer. He called again the next morning, straight to voicemail. He texted nothing. On the third day, he drove to her office. The receptionist told him Ila wasn’t seeing anyone.
“Please,” Adrienne said. Just 5 minutes, the receptionist made a call. 2 minutes later, Ila appeared in the lobby. She looked exhausted. Dark circles under her eyes. “What do you want?” she asked. “To apologize,” Adrien said. “To beg you to give me another chance.” “Adrien, I was wrong,” he said. The words tumbled out.
“I was scared and I was wrong. Your parents were horrible and I let them win. I pushed you away because I was trying to protect Lily, but instead I hurt her worse than anyone else ever could. She misses you. She wants you back. And so do I. Leila’s expression didn’t change. You called me a mistake. I was the mistake, Adrienne said.
Not you, never you. You’ve been nothing but good to us, and I threw it away because I was a coward. My family will never accept you. Ila said quietly. You were right about that. I don’t care. You should care. It will be hard. Let them try. Adrienne said. I don’t need their approval. I just need you. Lily needs you. We need you, Leila.
And I’m willing to fight for that. I’m willing to stand up to your parents, to anyone who tries to tell us we don’t belong together. Because we do belong together. Ila’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry,” Adrienne said again. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. You’re not a substitute. You’re not temporary.
You’re the person I want to build a life with. I love you, Ila. I’m in love with you, and I want you in our life. In my life,” Ila covered her mouth with her hand. Tears came. “If you’ll give me another chance,” Adrienne said. I’ll spend every day proving I mean it, that you matter, that you belong.
Ila stood there trembling. Then she stepped forward and collapsed against his chest. He caught her. I was so hurt, she whispered. I know. I’m sorry. I thought you didn’t want me. I want you, Adrienne said into her hair. God, I want you so much. They stood like that for a long time. When Ila finally pulled back, her face was blotchy and wet.
“What now? Now,” Adrienne said. “You come home.” That evening, Ila showed up at their house with art supplies. Lily opened the door, and froze. “Hi,” Ila said softly. Lily launched herself forward, wrapped her arms around Ila’s waist, and held on tight. “I’m sorry,” Lily said into Ila’s shirt. “I’m sorry your parents don’t like me.” Hey.
Ila knelt down, took Lily’s face in her hands. You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing. My parents were wrong. So wrong. And I told them they can either accept you and your dad or they can lose me because you two are my family now. The family I choose. Really? Lily’s voice was small. Really? Ila smiled. You’re stuck with me now.
If you’ll have me forever, Lily asked. Forever? Ila promised. Lily hugged her again, tighter this time. Over Lily’s head, Ila looked at Adrien. He saw the question in her eyes. He nodded. Yes, forever. 3 weeks later, Ila sat across from her parents in a private room at an upscale restaurant. Neutral ground. No Adrien, no Lily, just the three of them.
Her mother sipped her wine carefully, not meeting Ila’s eyes. Her father cleared his throat. Ila, we’ve been thinking. I don’t care what you’ve been thinking. Ila cut him off. Her voice was calm. Steel underneath. I’m here to tell you what I’ve decided. Her mother’s lips thinned. Ila, I’m going to marry Adrien, Ila said.
I’m going to be Lily’s mother. I’m going to build a life with them. And you have two choices. She sat down her glass. You can accept them. Come to our wedding. Be part of our lives. Be grandparents to Lily. Or you can continue to judge us. Continue to think we’re not good enough. And you will never see me again.
Her father’s face went red. You can’t be serious. I’ve never been more serious. Ila’s voice didn’t waver. I’ve spent 35 years trying to be what you wanted. the perfect daughter, the perfect businesswoman, and I was miserable. Then I met Adrienne and Lily. And for the first time in my life, I was happy. Really happy. She leaned forward.
I’m not asking for your permission. I’m telling you what’s happening. The only question is whether you want to be part of it. Her mother set down her wine glass with a sharp click. This is ridiculous. You barely know this man. I know he’s kind. I know he’s a devoted father. I know he makes me laugh. I know he sees me as more than a bank accountor a business connection.
Ila’s eyes were hard, which is more than I can say for every man you’ve ever paraded in front of me. That’s not fair, her father said. Isn’t it? Ila stood. You have one week to decide. After that, my door closes permanently. She walked out without looking back. 6 days passed in silence.
Ila heard nothing from her parents. She told herself she was prepared for it. Told herself she’d made peace with losing them, but it still hurt. On the seventh day, her mother called. We’d like to meet them again, her mother said. Her voice was stiff formal. Properly this time, Ila’s heart hammered. Why? A long pause. Because you’re our daughter and we don’t want to lose you. It wasn’t an apology.
It wasn’t acceptance, but it was something. Okay, Ila said carefully. But this time, we do it my way. No mansion, no formal dinner, just a park. Casual. And if you say one unkind word to Lily, we’re done permanently. Understood, her mother said. They met the following Saturday. Same park where Adrienne and Ila had first brought Lily.
Ila’s parents arrived stiffly. Her mother wore slacks and a silk blouse. Her father looked uncomfortable in cohakis. Adrienne and Lily were already there. Lily was throwing bread to the ducks, laughing. Mother, father, Ila said. Thank you for coming. Her mother nodded. Her father’s jaw was tight. Lily turned and saw them.
Her smile faded. She moved closer to Adrienne. Ila’s heart sank. This was already going wrong. Then Lily did something unexpected. She walked up to Ila’s mother and held out the bread bag. “Do you want to feed the ducks?” Lily asked. Her voice was small but brave. “I brought extra bread.” Ila’s mother looked startled like she hadn’t expected Lily to speak to her. “I,” she started.
“They’re really hungry,” Lily continued. “That fat one over there is my favorite. I call him Duke.” Despite herself, Ila’s mother’s lips twitched almost a smile. “Duke,” she said. “Yeah, because he’s fancy, like a duke.” This time, Ila’s mother did smile. “Small but real.” “I see,” she said.
She took the bread from Lily. “Show me which one is Duke.” For the next hour, something shifted. Lily was completely herself. Bright, funny, unguarded. She talked about her drawings, about school, about the dragon pizza picture she’d made. She asked Ila’s mother about her favorite color. Asked her father if he’d ever fed ducks before.
And slowly, incrementally, Ila’s parents began to soften. Not completely, not all the way. But the ice started to crack. After the ducks, they walked. Lily ran ahead looking at flowers. She’s very energetic. Ila’s mother said she is. Adrienne agreed. Ila’s mother was quiet for a moment. Raising a child alone must be difficult.
It wasn’t an apology, but it was acknowledgment. It is sometimes, Adrienne said. But she makes it worth it. They watched Lily cartwheel across the grass. Fall. Get up laughing. Ila tells us you work in accounting. Her father said, “I do for Morrison and Associates. Stable firm. it is.
Her father nodded, still evaluating, but asking questions at least. By the end of the afternoon, things weren’t perfect. Ila’s parents hadn’t suddenly transformed, but they’d shown up. They’d spent time with Lily. They’d seen her as a real child, not an abstract problem. It was a start. As they were leaving, Ila’s mother stopped, looked at Adrienne.
“You seem like a good father,” she said stiffly. It wasn’t much, but it was more than before. Thank you, Adrienne said. In the car, Lily was buzzing. They weren’t mean this time. No, Adrienne agreed. They weren’t. Does that mean they like us now? I think it means they’re trying, Adrienne said. That’s all we can ask for. Over the next 6 months, things slowly changed.
Leila’s parents didn’t become warm and fuzzy, but they showed up. They came to Lily’s school art show. Ila’s mother even said she has real talent. They came to Sunday dinners at Adrienne’s house, made small talk, tried. One Sunday after dinner, Ila’s mother pulled Adrienne aside while Lily and Ila were doing dishes.
I owe you an apology, she said. Adrienne nearly dropped his coffee. I’m sorry for that first dinner. Her face was uncomfortable. I was cruel. I judged you unfairly, I thought. She paused. I thought you were using Ila. I understand, Adrienne said carefully. But I was wrong. The words seemed to pain her. You clearly care for my daughter.
And Lily is a good child. She is. Ila’s mother looked toward the kitchen where Lily and Ila were laughing over something. Ila is happy, she said quietly. Truly happy. I haven’t seen her like this in years. She makes me happy, too, Adrienne said. I still think you come from different worlds. We do, but perhaps that doesn’t matter as much as I thought. She looked at him.
All that matters is that you love my daughter and that you’re good to her. Are you? I try to be, Adrienne said. Everyday. Ila’s mother nodded. Then, stiffly, she held out her hand. Adrienne shook it. It wasn’t a warm embrace, but it wasacceptance. He’d take it. That night, after Ila’s parents left and Lily went to bed, Adrien and Ila sat on the couch together.
“My mother apologized to you,” Ila said. “She did? I almost fainted when she told me.” Adrienne laughed. “It was pretty shocking. Thank you.” Ila said softly. “For what? For fighting. For not giving up. for giving them a chance to know you and Lily. “They’re your family,” Adrienne said. “I wasn’t going to take that away.” Ila kissed him soft and slow.
When she pulled back, her eyes were bright. “I have something to ask you,” she said. “Okay,” Ila took a breath. Then she slid off the couch, got down on one knee. Adrienne’s heart stopped. “Adrien,” Ila said. “Will you marry me? Will you let me be Lily’s mom? Will you build this life with me? Adrienne couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. Yes, he finally managed.
God, yes. Ila laughed, cried, pulled a ring box out of her pocket, and slipped a ring onto his finger. They held each other on the living room floor, both shaking. From upstairs, they heard Lily’s door open. Small footsteps on the stairs. Lily appeared in the doorway, rubbing her eyes. What’s happening? She asked sleepily.
Ila and Adrienne looked at each other then at Lily. Ila just asked me to marry her. Adrienne said. Lily’s eyes went wide. And you said yes? I said yes. Lily screamed. She ran across the room and threw herself at both of them. The three of them ended up in a pile on the floor, laughing, crying, holding each other. You’re really going to be my mom? Lily asked Ila.
Really? Really? Ila said, “If that’s okay with you.” “It’s very okay,” Lily said. Seriously, they stayed like that for a long time. The three of them tangled together. A family, not the family Adrienne had planned, not the family Ila had expected, but their family. Built from loneliness and rejection and a crazy question on Christmas night.
Built from choosing each other again and again, even when it was hard, especially when it was hard. The wedding was small. Close friends and family. Ila’s parents came, sat in the front row. Her mother cried during the vows. Lily stood beside Ila in a white dress holding a bouquet of liies. When the officient asked if anyone objected, Lily shouted, “No, they’re perfect together.” Everyone laughed.
Adrienne looked at Ila in her wedding dress. At Lily beaming between them, at Sarah crying in the second row, at Ila’s parents, watching with something that looked like acceptance, maybe even love. This was his life now. No longer defined by loss, no longer defined by fear, defined by choice, by courage, by love. When he kissed Ila, Lily cheered and Adrienne thought about that night in the restaurant.
The blind date who walked out. The stranger who asked an impossible question. Can you be my new husband? He’d thought she was crazy. Maybe she was, but crazy had given him everything he’d ever wanted. a partner, a family, a future. As they walked down the aisle together, all three of them, Adrienne knew one thing for certain. He would choose this. Choose them.
choose this messy, complicated, beautiful life every single day for the rest of his.
