After 3 years, Mia could already speak fluent Rovellian, which she had picked up from the neighbor's child.
She had shot up so quickly that none of her old clothes fit anymore.
Nathan got up early every morning to take her to school, rain or shine. He never missed a parent-teacher conference, field day, or birthday party.
One day, Mia asked me, "Mom, can I call Nathan Dad?"
"Go ask him."
She ran off to do exactly that.
Nathan crouched until he was at eye level with her.
"Of course you can."
That night, Nathan told me he wanted to have a procedure.
"What procedure?"
"A vasectomy."
He said it calmly.
"We have Mia. She's enough for us. I don't want another child."
I stared at him.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
He smiled.
"I married you. I didn't marry a baby-making machine. Bes
