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Vicente looks at me expectantly.
I release a deep breath before speaking. “Ava has noticed that you now call me ‘wife,’ but you still call her ‘duckling.’” I widen my eyes, trying to leave the rest unsaid.
Vicente catches on. “Ava,” he calls her, and she lifts her head. “Sweetheart, I love you.”
The moment he says the words, she lunges for him, and he catches her without missing a beat.
“Can you please be my daddy?” Ava says against his chest.
Now it’s my turn to sob.
I have never hidden the truth about Konstantine from her, and I think it’s the cutest thing that she calls Vicente “Daddy.” Still, I often wonder if she wants a paternal figure in her life beyond Konstantine’s memory.
Seeing her so vulnerable with Vicente makes me believe she secretly always wanted a daddy but never mentioned it—perhaps out of fear of making me feel bad.
Even though she’s only five, Ava is a very emotional and empathetic child, always mindful of other people’s feelings, especially mine.
Watching Vicente wear his emotions on his sleeves has been a welcome sight for sore eyes. Day after day, through his actions and his love, he has erased my fears and apprehensions. The worries I once had about this marriage ending with Ava and me shattered have disappeared into the void.
I know Vicente is all in with us. Forming a family isn’t just a commitment—it’s truly his ultimate goal.
“It’d be my honor, sweetie,” he says, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Ava Flores, I would be the happiest father on earth if you would be mine. May I call youhija?”
His voice is so full of tenderness that the weight of the moment overwhelms us. Emotion swells in my chest, and before I know it, we’re all dissolving into one shared, heartfelt sob.
It’s not lost on me that he used the Spanish word for daughter. Vicente never speaks Spanish. This is clearly a huge deal for him.
Ava is unable to speak but nods her head, and Vicente hugs her harder.
A moment later he opens one arm, silently inviting me into the hug. I step forward, wrapping my arms around them both, feeling the warmth of our little family.
“I’m sorry I upset you, sweetie. I just didn’t want to overstep,” Vicente says.
She frowns. “What does overstep mean?”
Vicente and I chuckle at the same time, immediately feeling lighter.
“It means I didn’t want to force you to call me anything you weren’t ready for.”
Understanding dawns on Ava, and she throws her arms around him once more, holding him tightly as if she never wants to let go.
After wiping the last of her tears and going through her bedtime routine again, Vicente and I quietly leave Ava asleep in her room.
It’s back to the office today. We took the entire weekend to unpack and settle back into London time.
Those couple of days were definitely necessary to try to get used to living in a palace. I don’t think there’s any other way to describe Vicente’s place. We not only employ maids, we have chauffeurs, gardeners and even personal chefs. I’ll never understand why he spent all those nights in my dainty apartment, eating regular food when he had all this.
Ava came back visibly tired from Colombia, but I’ve never seen her smile more. She’s taking all these changes in stride, and I couldn’t be more proud of my girl.
Vicente and I arrive at work well before anyone else. I guess everyone took the paid time off Vicente gave them too seriously.
The moment Samantha, the receptionist, sees me, her eyes light up like two bright stars. Without hesitation she makes a beeline for the coffee bar, where I’m brewing a pot.
“Camila, good morning. Or should I say Mrs. Godoy?”
My face contorts.How could she possibly know that we got married?
“Oh, here,” Samantha says, taking a magazine out of her bag.