Garrett had insisted that a father should be the one to announce such things.

I had stopped arguing over decisions that ordinary couples made together.

Now I realized that I wanted the news to belong to me.

When the doctor asked whether I wished to know, I said yes.

“A girl,” she told me.

I cried so hard that Marisol had to wait before she could finish taking my blood pressure.

My daughter was a person, not a prize for Garrett to claim.

She was not a reason I had failed him, or an excuse he could use to control me.