A man was sitting next to her bed. He was maybe sixty years old with a long gray beard and a worn leather jacket. He looked rough. Weathered. The kind of man I would have crossed the street to avoid.
But he was holding my daughter’s hand. And he was making her laugh.
“I don’t know!” Lily giggled. “What?”
“A gummy bear!”
Lily laughed so hard she snorted. And the man laughed too, his whole face transforming into something warm and kind.
“Thomas, you tell the silliest jokes,” Lily said.
“That’s my job, princess. Making you laugh is my most important mission.”
I stood there frozen. Watching this stranger love my daughter. Watching him do what I should have been doing for the past eight months. Watching him be the parent I had failed to be.
The nurse from the front desk appeared beside me. Her voice was cold. “That’s Thomas Crawford. He started visiting Lily one week after you left. He’s been here every single day since. Morning and evening. Never missed once.”
“Who is he?” I whispered.
The word hit me like a physical blow. Abandoned. That’s what I’d done. I’d abandoned my child.
“He’s the reason she’s still fighting,” the nurse continued. “After you left, Lily stopped eating. Stopped talking. The doctors were worried she’d given up. Then Thomas showed up. Asked if there were any kids who needed a friend.”
She looked at me with something between pity and contempt. “He saved your daughter’s life. Not the chemo. Not the doctors. Him. He gave her a reason to keep fighting.”
I started crying. Couldn’t stop. The nurse handed me a tissue but didn’t offer any comfort. I didn’t deserve comfort.
“Does she talk about me?” I asked.
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