We went up to our hotel room and my father was rocking Cosette back and forth trying to comfort himself. My father saw Niklaus, and I enter the hotel room, he placed Cosette in her playpen and left. I know he was still angry with how Niklaus left in the first place.
“Dada,” Cosette said as she had her hands in the air wanting to be picked up. I motioned for him to pick her up, and he did and soon placed the flower behind her ear that he had picked from the bush out front. Cosette giggled and wrapped her small arms around his neck and hugged him. He hugged her back. I sat down on the bed feeling a bit defeated. My own child’s first words are to the man who left me. She wanted her father more than she wanted me. Am I selfish to say I wish she didn’t want him?
“This is not something I ima
