“But you can still grow into a better man,” Emily continued. “You simply have to stop making me the reason.” He looked into her eyes. “What about Grace?” “Become the man she always believed her daddy was.” Alexander turned his face away. Emily inhaled slowly.
“I’m going to see her now.” “I won’t come after you.” “Thank you.” He acknowledged her words with a nod. She headed toward the doorway, then suddenly paused. “There is one more thing you need to hear.” Alexander faced her again. Something uncertain had appeared beneath the sadness in Emily’s expression. “What is it?” “Before we lost Grace, she asked me to protect something for her.” He waited silently.
“A little blue box.”
Alexander frowned. “What did she put inside?”
“I’m not certain. She said it belonged to you, but I was supposed to wait until you were ready before giving it to you.”
His chest felt painfully tight.
“Why would she tell you that?”
“I asked the same question. She answered, ‘Daddy has to remember.’”
Emily opened her handbag and took out a small package covered in paper.
Its corners were slightly worn, suggesting someone had carried it around for several days.
Alexander stared at the object.
“Where did she find it?”
“It was tucked inside the pocket of her yellow sweater.”
He hesitated to reach for it.
“What exactly is that?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
Emily extended the package toward him.
“Grace made me promise I wouldn’t look inside.”
Alexander accepted it carefully in both hands.
Uneven purple stars covered the wrapping paper. Across the front were words written in a little child’s handwriting.
For Daddy.
His breathing became unsteady.
Emily observed him quietly.
“She created it at preschool,” she explained. “Her teacher said she had spent the whole week making it. She kept talking about surprising you.”
Alexander stared at the uneven lettering.
Suddenly, he remembered everything: Grace approaching him with her picture that morning, the bright yellow sweater, her cheerful little voice.
“Daddy, look!”
He had taken her drawing without paying proper attention.
Now his hands shook as he carefully removed the paper.
Inside lay a small blue notebook, similar to the ones preschool children filled with pictures and their earliest written words.
Grace had drawn three people beneath an uneven blue sky on the opening page.
Their family.
On the following page, she had written a short message with her teacher’s assistance.
Daddy, when you come, I have something to tell you.
Alexander could not look away.
Emily spoke in a trembling whisper.
“There was something else on the following page. I couldn’t bring myself to read it.”
He carefully turned over the paper.
The letters were bigger now, their shapes increasingly uneven.
Beside a drawing of an airplane sat a bright red suitcase.
Below the picture, Grace had written:
Mommy says Toronto is far away.
Alexander went completely still.
He looked up at Emily.
“She already knew?”
“I mentioned the employment opportunity to her,” Emily explained. “Just one time. I said we might need to move somewhere else temporarily. She wanted to know whether you would travel with us.”
“What answer did you give her?”
“I told her I wasn’t sure.”
Alexander felt as though the floor had shifted beneath him.
Tears gathered in Emily’s eyes.
“She wanted to ask you personally. That was the important thing she needed to tell you.”
Alexander slowly turned the page again.
Only a single sentence appeared.
Daddy, will you come too?
Neither spoke for a very long moment.
Then Emily whispered, “She waited for you that afternoon because she wanted to hear your answer.”
Alexander pressed the little notebook close to his chest.
Beyond the glass entrance, falling rain turned the buildings into blurred gray shapes.
And underneath the sorrow he had carried all the way from Chicago, a painful realization began forming—something he had never imagined before.
Grace had been waiting for more than her father to arrive.
She had wanted to know whether the three of them would remain a family.
Alexander looked at the message once more.
Daddy, will you come too?
Grace had used a purple crayon, forming letters that tilted in different directions. The question was so innocent that it seemed impossible for it to carry so much pain.
Yet it did.
He remembered Grace watching him expectantly that morning, hoping he would pay attention to her artwork. His thoughts had been elsewhere—business notifications, appointments, and preparations for a birthday event that had seemed urgent at the time.
She had wanted something more meaningful than praise for a drawing.
She had been waiting for him to answer her question.
“Why didn’t you mention this to me?” he asked.
Emily’s expression grew tense. “I made attempts.”
“About the move to Toronto?”
“About all of it.”
He stared down at the notebook.
“I should have paid attention.”
“Yes,” she answered softly. “You should have.”
Her voice carried no bitterness anymore. Only deep weariness.
A woman standing near reception briefly looked their way before respectfully turning aside. The ordinary workday continued around them—telephones ringing, elevators arriving, shoes moving across shining floors—while Alexander remained caught in a moment that had started long before today.
“Did Grace bring it up many times?” he asked.
“Not really. She worried about making me sad.” Emily managed a faint, sorrowful smile. “Grace noticed everything. She could always tell when grown-ups were troubled.”
Alexander gently touched the notebook’s edge.
“What did you say to her?”
“That the three of us would discuss it.”
“But that conversation never happened.”
“You never had it.”
He lowered his head.
“I know.”
Emily glanced at the notebook he was holding.
“She adored you,” she whispered. “Nothing ever changed that.”
His throat tightened painfully.
“And I adored her.”
“I know you did.”
Her reassurance could not ease his sadness. He was beginning to realize that genuine love did not prevent someone from making mistakes. A person could love deeply and still fail to be present when it mattered.
“Would you let me accompany you?” he asked.
Emily glanced toward the doors streaked with rain.
“To visit the cemetery?”
“I promise I won’t disturb you. I won’t expect you to make me feel better. I only want to spend a little time close to her.”
Emily remained silent for a long moment.
Eventually, she gently shook her head.
“Not this time.”
He respected her decision, even though every part of him wanted to ask her to reconsider.
“All right.”
For a brief moment, she appeared surprised.
“You aren’t going to try changing my mind?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you already told me no.”
A little of the tension left her expression, although the change was subtle.
Alexander continued holding the notebook against his chest.
“May I hold on to this?”
“She made it for you.”
He gave a quiet nod.
“I promise I’ll keep it safe.”
Emily held his gaze. “There’s something you must recognize. Protecting a notebook is very different from protecting the child who created it.”
“I understand.”
“Are you certain?”
“I’m learning.”
She watched him closely, perhaps expecting the old frustration to emerge beneath his unusually calm behavior. When it never appeared, she seemed unsure how to respond.
At last, she spoke. “There’s another page.”
Alexander glanced at the notebook.
“I assumed I’d reached the end.”
“I never looked at it.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because the back cover was taped shut when I discovered it. Grace had written my name across it. I believed she wanted me to protect it until I understood what should happen next.”
Emily opened her handbag once more.
She retrieved a folded sheet from a small compartment inside.
“I removed this from the notebook after reaching Toronto,” she explained. “But I never read what was written.”
Alexander studied the folded paper.
“Why give it to me today?”
“Because she created it for you. And you have a right to understand what she was trying to tell you.”
He gently accepted the sheet.
It had been folded over several times. On the outside, Grace had written a short message using a blue marker.
For Daddy only.
Alexander carefully opened it.
A child’s drawing filled the inside. It showed a house with uneven walls and an oversized roof. Three people stood outside, their hands joined together.
Beside them, Grace had added another figure.
It resembled an airplane.
Under the picture were the words:
If Mommy goes far, we can visit.
Alexander continued staring until the letters became difficult to distinguish.
Emily spoke in a gentle voice.
“She believed being far apart was something people could overcome if they truly wanted to.”
He shut his eyes.
“She expected all of us to travel together.”
“She believed you would decide to join us.”
The paper shook slightly between his fingers.
“I should have chosen that.”
“Yes.”
He carefully refolded the drawing, taking his time.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to carry this.”
“You aren’t required to figure that out today.”
“I have no idea how to continue without her.”
For the first time, Emily struggled to maintain her composure.
“Neither do I.”
They faced each other, each carrying memories of the daughter they deeply missed. Since Alexander’s arrival in Toronto, this was the first silence that did not feel like a consequence of his mistakes.
It felt like two parents mourning together.
He wanted to hold her hand.
But he remained still.
After several moments, Emily spoke. “I need to leave.”
“I understand.”
She started toward the entrance.
“Emily.”
She stopped walking but kept facing forward.
“I won’t visit your apartment again unless you agree beforehand.”
“Thank you.”
“I won’t contact your workplace or have anyone monitor your movements.”
Some of the tension eased from her shoulders.
“That means a lot.”
“And I won’t pressure you to return home.”
Now she turned around.
Alexander made himself look directly into her eyes.
“I hope you find peace and happiness, even if your future doesn’t include me.”
Emily examined his expression.
“Is that genuinely what you feel, or are you repeating what you believe I want to hear?”
He reflected on her question.
“I’m not completely certain yet. But I understand that it’s something I have to learn.”
She remained quiet for several seconds.
Then she gave one small nod and walked away.
Alexander stayed in the reception area until the glass entrance doors shut behind her.
Twenty minutes afterward, Daniel telephoned.
“Boss, will you be returning to Chicago?”
Alexander glanced at Grace’s notebook.
“No.”
Daniel paused. “Would you like me to cancel the remaining appointments this week?”
“Postpone whatever isn’t urgent. Arrange video meetings for anything that cannot wait.”
“Understood.”
“One more thing, Daniel.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Arrange for someone to manage the companies during my absence.”
“Only for a short period?”
“I haven’t decided.”
Daniel fell silent.
Alexander had never responded with such uncertainty before. Every aspect of his existence had revolved around confident, decisive answers.
“Are you certain about this?” Daniel asked.
“No,” Alexander admitted. “But I’m moving forward with it.”
He spent the afternoon wandering through Toronto without choosing a particular destination.
Although the streets were unfamiliar, the city did not feel unwelcoming. Pedestrians hurried past in thick scarves against the chilly weather. Red-and-white streetcars traveled along the roads. Eventually, he entered a modest waterfront café, ordered tea, and settled beside the window.
He opened Grace’s notebook once more.
Almost every page contained a drawing.
A violet-colored kitten. A bright yellow school bus. A birthday cake covered with far too many candles.
One picture showed Emily sitting beside Grace’s bed with a book. Another portrayed Alexander kneeling near a toy stove while wearing a crown made from paper.
He remembered that afternoon.
Grace had declared him the king of her pretend restaurant.
For twenty minutes, he had worn the paper crown while she prepared imaginary meals and served plastic soup.
Back then, he had repeatedly glanced at his phone between her pretend courses.
But in her drawing, he appeared completely focused on her.
Alexander set the notebook on the tabletop and buried his face in his hands.
A waitress approached with concern.
“Excuse me, sir. Are you feeling okay?”
He slowly uncovered his face.
“Yes.”
She glanced briefly at the notebook before looking back at him. “Could I bring you a glass of water?”
He nodded gratefully.
After she walked away, his phone began ringing.
Madison was calling.
He accepted the call.
“How is she doing?” Madison asked.
“You mean Emily?”
“Yes.”
“She has started working.”
“That isn’t what I was asking.”
Alexander gazed through the window at the rain.
“She’s struggling with her loss.”
Madison drew a quiet breath.
“Were you able to speak with her?”
“Yes.”
“Did she tell you to go away?”
“She asked me not to accompany her to the cemetery.”
“That seems understandable.”
“It is.”
Madison paused briefly.
“Did you tell her you were sorry?”
“I did.”
“What happened afterward?”
“She accepted that I meant it.”
“That’s a positive sign.”
“No,” Alexander replied. “Not necessarily.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because she knows I regret everything. But she doesn’t trust that I’ll become different.”
Madison settled back in her chair. Through the phone, he could hear distant conversations and dishes clinking.
“Do you think you can change?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“Well, at least you’re telling the truth now.”
He turned to the notebook page showing their family beneath the blue sky.
“Madison, were you aware Emily was thinking about moving to Toronto?”
“No.”
“Daniel told me she contacted my office.”
“I wasn’t aware of that.”
“She spent weeks attempting to have a conversation with me.”
Madison sighed.
“Alex…”
“What is it?”
“There’s something I need to admit.”
He immediately became attentive.
“Tell me.”
“It’s about the birthday post for Olivia.”
He waited for her to continue.
“I was the one who wrote the caption.”
He turned his gaze toward the window.
“What did you actually write?”
“You’ve already seen it.”
“I want you to tell me.”
Madison paused.
“I wrote that you had personally organized the whole celebration and that you and Olivia were meant to be together.”
“Why would you write that?”
“Olivia wanted me to.”
Alexander tightened his grip on the phone.
“She specifically requested it?”
“She told me it would be amusing. She wanted to know whether you’d respond. I assumed she wasn’t serious.”
“And you published it anyway.”
“Yes.”
“Was she aware I had a wife?”
“Obviously, Alex. She knew.”
“Did she ever ask you to remove the post?”
“No. I took it down after noticing Emily had liked it.”
Alexander shut his eyes.
“Why didn’t you mention any of this?”
“I felt ashamed.”
“Madison.”
“I know I made a mistake. I should have explained everything immediately. But when we spoke, you were already distressed about Grace. I convinced myself that a social media caption wasn’t important compared with everything else.”
“It mattered enormously to Emily.”
“I understand that now.”
He remained silent.
Madison lowered her voice.
“Olivia knew Emily was upset. She asked whether you had mentioned anything concerning the necklace.”
Alexander opened his eyes.
“How did you answer?”
“I told her I hadn’t heard anything.”
“Why was she asking?”
“I figured she was concerned Emily might get the wrong impression.”
Alexander looked down at the blue notebook.
“Did Olivia know that necklace was originally meant for Emily?”
“Yes.”
Madison answered without hesitation.
“Are you absolutely sure?”
“Alex, I accompanied you when you purchased it. You wanted my opinion about the gemstone because you remembered Emily liked diamonds with a pale appearance.”
Alexander suddenly remembered.
Several months earlier, he had bought the necklace after Emily casually admired a similar piece displayed in a jewelry store window.
He planned to surprise her with it on their wedding anniversary.
Then Olivia’s father invited him to a private business dinner. Olivia joined them later that evening. When Alexander drove her home, the necklace remained inside his vehicle.
He had completely forgotten about it.
Olivia eventually discovered it.
“She told Emily she had seen it inside my car,” he said.
“Did she really?”
“I don’t know for certain.”
Madison fell quiet.
“What are you suggesting?” he asked.
“Olivia told me she discovered it in the guest bedroom at your house.”
Alexander’s expression became serious.
“She never entered that bedroom.”
“I know.”
“Did Olivia actually tell you that?”
“Yes.”
“Then why would she tell Emily she discovered it in my vehicle?”
Madison had no explanation.
Alexander abruptly rose, scraping his chair against the café floor.
“Madison, is there something else you’re keeping from me?”
“I’m not sure it’s relevant.”
“It becomes relevant if she deliberately misled someone.”
“I’m not accusing her of dishonesty.”
“But you just admitted she gave two different explanations.”
“I told you I don’t know what happened.”
Alexander moved toward the café entrance.
“Did Olivia ever enter my private study?”
There was a brief silence.
“Yes.”
“On what occasions?”
“A few times. She said she needed to discuss something confidential with you.”
“Did I authorize her to go inside?”
“I thought you had.”
“I never did.”
Madison sounded increasingly uncomfortable.
“Alex, I’m sorry. I should have mentioned it. But Olivia has known our family for years. Nobody imagined—”
“Nobody considered asking Emily how she felt about any of it.”
He ended the conversation before Madison could reply.
Outside, the rainfall had ended, leaving the sidewalks wet and reflective.
Alexander remained beneath the café’s shelter, holding his phone.
His first impulse was to contact Olivia immediately.
He wanted an explanation.
But then he remembered Emily’s letter.
Do not make your regret the center of my grief.
Throughout his life, whenever something unsettled him, he had demanded explanations until he felt in control again. He had mistaken collecting information for genuinely understanding people.
If Olivia had been dishonest, discovering the truth was important.
But that truth could never excuse his own failure to be there for his family.
Instead, he contacted Daniel.
“Was Olivia ever allowed into my private office at the house?”
Daniel paused before answering.
“Not through any official arrangement.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
Daniel understood his meaning.
“I’ll review the records.”
“Keep it discreet.”
“Certainly.”
“And Daniel?”
“Yes, boss?”
“Don’t intimidate anyone or pressure them into speaking. I only want verified information.”
Daniel hesitated briefly.
“Understood.”
