“I handled the tickets.”
“I gave you four.”
“I know.”
“One was for Dad.”
Denise said nothing.
Maya’s voice trembled.
“One was for Dad.”
“I made a decision.”
“You made a decision about my graduation?”
“I am your mother.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“Maya, I did what I thought was best.”
“For who?”
Before Denise could answer, Marcus looked past Maya.
His expression changed.
Maya noticed.
“What?”
Marcus didn’t reply.
She followed his eyes.
A man was making his way through the crowd.
He wore faded jeans, a dark sweatshirt, a black cap and glasses.
No suit.
No bouquet.
No polished shoes.
He looked completely out of place among the parents dressed for photographs and formal dinners.
But Maya would have recognized that walk anywhere.
Her diploma slipped against her fingers.
“Dad?”
The man stopped.
Samuel Carter smiled.
It was hesitant.
Almost apologetic.
Maya stared at him.
Then everything else disappeared.
She dropped the diploma folder into Marcus’s hands and ran.
“Dad!”
Samuel barely had time to open his arms.
Maya crashed into him.
He held her tightly.
Her graduation cap tilted sideways.
Neither cared.
Samuel closed his eyes.
“My baby.”
Maya started crying.
“Why weren’t you inside?”
Samuel’s smile faded.
He looked over her shoulder toward Denise.
Then down at his daughter.
“This is your day.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He gently adjusted the tassel hanging across her face.
“We can talk later.”
Maya stepped backward.
“No.”
Samuel immediately recognized the anger in her expression.
It was the same expression she had worn as a little girl whenever she realized an adult was hiding something from her.
“Who told you not to come?”
Samuel sighed.
“Maya.”
“Who?”
Denise approached.
“Samuel, please don’t make this worse.”
Maya turned.
“No one is making anything worse except you.”
Samuel touched her shoulder.
“Hey.”
Maya looked at him.
“Not today.”
“But Dad—”
“You graduated.”
He smiled.
“Four years. Dean’s list twice. Three internships. More sleepless nights than you’ll ever admit.”
His eyes shone.
“That’s what today is about.”
Maya looked at the clothes he was wearing.
“Did you come from work?”
Samuel smiled awkwardly.
“Maybe.”
“Dad.”
“I didn’t know there was going to be a dress code outside.”
Maya stared at him.
“You were working while I graduated?”
Samuel’s smile faded again.
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to be here.”
Those words hurt more than anything Denise had said.
Twenty-two years earlier, Samuel Carter had been the first person to hold Maya after she was born.
He had been twenty-six years old, terrified, exhausted and absolutely convinced the nurse was making a mistake by trusting him with something so small.
“She’s going to break,” he whispered.
Denise laughed from the hospital bed.
“She’s a baby, Sam. Not glass.”
Samuel looked at the newborn sleeping against his chest.
“She looks like glass.”
Maya opened one tiny hand.
Samuel put his finger against her palm.
She grabbed it.
Something changed inside him.
For years afterward, whenever Maya asked whether he had always wanted children, Samuel told the same story.
“I didn’t know how much I wanted you until you grabbed my finger.”
Denise always rolled her eyes.