I see him with our two month old daughter, rocking her in his arms as she falls asleep.
The way he looks at her is full of love and pride. He was so excited to meet her, playing to my stomach song after song.
When she arrived to this world, he called everybody to tell them, his voice shaking and his eyes filled with tears. Then he spent hours watching her sleep and holding her little finger in his palm.
And now, after two months, he still looks at her with warm eyes, whispering words of love.
He must have felt me staring at them. He smiled at me but his eyes did not hold the same warmth as they did looking at Molly. And I knew why.
I do not have blond hair.
I do not have crystal blue eyes.
I'm not Christine.
