Chapter 7: A Father's Plea

The coffee shop on Fifth Street had become neutral territory by unspoken agreement. Not Chloe's warm, chaotic home where Mae's presence made every conversation feel loaded with consequence. Not Lexi's apartment, still heavy with the weight of last night's confrontations. Just a small café with mismatched chairs and the comfortable anonymity of strangers going about their morning routines.

Zeke sat across from Chloe at a corner table, two untouched cups of coffee growing cold between them. Through the window, they could see the park where Mae was playing on the swings under Lexi's watchful supervision—close enough that they could keep an eye on her, far enough that their conversation wouldn't reach small ears.

"She's not talking to me," Chloe said quietly, nodding toward the playground. "Lexi. She's been polite all morning, but she's not actually talking to me."

Zeke followed her gaze to where Lexi sat on a bench, her dark hair catching the morning sunlight as she watched Mae with the fierce attention of a sentry. Even from a distance, he could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she held herself apart from the world.

"She's protecting herself," he said. "And you. And Mae. It's what she does."

"Is that your professional opinion, Dr. Thorne?" There was no malice in Chloe's voice, just exhaustion and a hint of the warmth he remembered from five years ago.

"Just an observation." He turned back to face her, studying the woman who had haunted the edges of his memory for so long. In daylight, without the shock of recognition and the chaos of rescue, he could see both the girl he'd met at that conference and the mother she'd become. "She loves you both fiercely. Maybe more than she knows how to handle."

Chloe's fingers traced the rim of her coffee cup, a nervous gesture that reminded him suddenly of Mae. "I need to know your intentions, Zeke. Not toward me—we'll figure that out eventually. But toward Mae. She's already getting attached to you, and if you're going to disappear—"

"I'm not going anywhere." The words came out sharper than he'd intended, carrying the weight of five years of regret. "I know I have no right to make demands, no right to waltz into her life and claim a place I never earned. But I'm not disappearing, Chloe. I can't."

Through the window, Mae had moved from the swings to the slide, her delighted laughter carrying across the morning air. Zeke felt that now-familiar twist in his chest, the overwhelming combination of love and loss that came with watching his daughter exist in a world he'd never been part of.

"What does that mean, practically?" Chloe pressed. "You live three hours away. You have a practice, a life—"

"I'll move." The decision crystallized as he spoke it, feeling more right than anything he'd contemplated in years. "I can relocate my practice, or start over. Architecture is architecture—I can do it anywhere."

Chloe stared at him across the small table, her blue eyes wide with surprise. "You'd do that? Uproot your entire life for a child you've known for three days?"

"She's not just a child." Zeke's voice was quiet but absolute. "She's my daughter. And yes, I'd do that. I'd do anything."

The conviction in his own voice surprised him. Three days ago, his life had been carefully ordered, predictably solitary. He'd built a world that was safe and controlled, where nothing could touch the carefully guarded spaces where his grief lived. Mae's existence had shattered that world completely, and instead of mourning the loss, he felt lighter than he had in years.

"Lexi thinks you'll hurt her," Chloe said carefully. "Mae, I mean. That you'll decide being a father is too hard and leave."

"Lexi thinks a lot of things." Zeke's gaze drifted back to the playground, where Lexi was now pushing Mae on the swings, her face soft with unguarded affection. "Most of them designed to keep people at a safe distance."

"Can you blame her? After what she's been through?"

Zeke looked at Chloe questioningly, and she continued with a slight smile. "You think I don't know about David? The ex who cheated on her with her college roommate? Lexi doesn't trust easily, and when she does, she gives everything. When someone breaks that trust..."

"She builds walls," Zeke finished, understanding flooding through him. It explained so much about Lexi's fierce protectiveness, her assumption that he would eventually disappoint them all. "High ones."

"The highest. But she's never been wrong about protecting Mae. Her instincts when it comes to that child are..." Chloe shook her head. "She'd throw herself in front of a bus for Mae without thinking twice."

Through the window, Mae had abandoned the playground equipment and was now showing Lexi something she'd found—a flower, maybe, or an interesting rock. Lexi crouched to Mae's level, examining the treasure with the serious attention it deserved, and the sight made Zeke's chest tighten with an emotion he couldn't name.

"I'm not going to hurt Mae," he said quietly. "I know you have no reason to believe that, but I need you to understand—finding out about her, it's like..." He struggled for the words. "It's like someone switched on a light in a room I didn't know existed. I can't go back to not knowing she's mine."

Chloe was quiet for a long moment, studying his face with the careful attention of a mother evaluating a potential threat to her child. Whatever she saw there must have satisfied her, because her shoulders relaxed slightly.

"I believe you," she said finally. "But belief and trust are different things. Trust has to be earned."

"Then let me earn it." The plea came out rougher than he'd intended, carrying all the desperation he'd been trying to hide. "Let me be part of her life. Let me learn how to be her father."

"What about Lexi?"

The question hung between them like a challenge. Zeke thought about the woman sitting on the park bench, about the way she'd looked at him during those three days on the boat—like he was something worth believing in. Then he thought about last night, about the pain in her eyes when she'd accused him of playing house, of treating Mae like a novelty.

"What about her?"

"You're in love with her." It wasn't a question, and Chloe's voice carried no judgment, just quiet observation.

Zeke didn't try to deny it. "Yes."

"And she's in love with you, though she'd probably rather die than admit it right now." Chloe leaned forward, her expression serious. "But she's also convinced that Mae comes first, always. If she thinks your feelings for her will interfere with your relationship with Mae, she'll sacrifice herself without hesitation."

"She shouldn't have to sacrifice anything."

"Then you need to prove that to her. Not with words—Lexi doesn't trust words. With actions. With time. With showing up, day after day, for Mae and only Mae."

The wisdom in Chloe's advice hit him like a revelation. Of course. Lexi needed to see that his commitment to Mae wasn't dependent on whatever complicated feelings existed between them. She needed proof that he could separate being Mae's father from wanting her, that Mae would never become a casualty of adult emotions.

"How long?" he asked.

"As long as it takes." Chloe's smile was gentle but firm. "Mae is worth it. And so is Lexi, even if she doesn't believe that right now."

Through the window, Mae had apparently convinced Lexi to join her on the monkey bars. Zeke watched his daughter demonstrate her technique with serious concentration while Lexi nodded encouragingly, and felt that familiar surge of love and loss.

Five years. Five years of bedtime stories and scraped knees and first words and Christmas mornings. Five years of a life he'd never been part of, of memories that belonged to other people. He couldn't get that time back, but he could make sure he didn't miss another day.

"I want to take her to the zoo," he said suddenly. "This weekend. If that's okay. I want to learn what makes her laugh, what she's afraid of, whether she likes elephants or tigers better."

Chloe's expression softened. "She likes penguins. And she's afraid of the butterfly exhibit, which makes no sense to anyone, but there you have it."

"Penguins." Zeke filed the information away like treasure. "What else?"

"She puts ketchup on everything, including ice cream, which is disgusting but apparently genetic because I used to do the same thing. She can't sleep without her stuffed elephant, Mr. Peanuts. She makes up songs about everything—getting dressed, brushing teeth, walking to the store. She's curious about everything and asks about a million questions a day."

Each detail felt like a gift, filling in the outline of the person his daughter was becoming. "Does she ask about me? About having a father?"

Chloe's face grew careful. "Sometimes. Usually after she sees other kids with their dads at school events or the park. I've always told her that some families are different, that love is what makes a family, not structure."

"But she's wondered."

"She's wondered." Chloe reached across the table, covering his hand with hers. "She's a smart little girl, Zeke. She's going to have questions, and some of them are going to be hard to answer."

Through the window, Mae had convinced Lexi to race her to the far end of the playground. Despite her obvious reluctance, Lexi was gamely jogging alongside the five-year-old, letting herself be beaten by several steps before collapsing dramatically on a bench in mock exhaustion. Mae's delighted giggles carried through the glass, bright and infectious.

"I want to answer them," Zeke said, watching his daughter bounce excitedly around her honorary aunt. "Whatever she wants to know, however hard it is. I want to be the one who answers."

"Then we'll figure it out. All of us. Even Lexi, once she stops being terrified that caring about you means failing Mae somehow."

Mae had spotted them through the coffee shop window and was now waving enthusiastically, her face bright with the uncomplicated joy that seemed to be her default setting. Zeke waved back, and felt something settle in his chest—not peace, exactly, but purpose.

He was going to be Mae's father. Not the one who'd been there from the beginning, not the one who'd earned the right through sleepless nights and first steps, but the one who showed up now and stayed. The one who learned her favorite songs and remembered that she liked penguins and understood that love wasn't diminished by starting late.

And maybe, if he was patient enough and consistent enough and worthy enough, he'd find a way to be part of the family that Lexi and Chloe had built around his daughter. Maybe he'd earn a place in their carefully constructed world.

Maybe he'd even earn his way back into Lexi's guarded heart.

But first, he had to prove he could be the father Mae deserved. Everything else would have to wait.