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“She died the day after our baby was born.”

“Jesus. I’m sorry. What are you drinking? It’s on the house.”

“I’ll take a glass of water.”

The waitress returned a few minutes later with a water and a scotch, even though I hadn’t asked for it. I drank the water and ordered some French fries.

Madeline was still asleep as I pushed her stroller through the lobby and into the elevator. When we got back to the room, I picked her up and gently placed her in the crib the hotel had provided. She stirred a bit, but then settled in. I picked up my book and continued reading, but I only made it through a couple of pages before Madeline interrupted me. She was awake, and she wouldn’t go back to sleep unless she knew I was nearby. I took her out of the crib, and brought her to the king-sized bed in the middle of the room. I laid her there on her back and sat down next to her, rubbing her stomach until she fell asleep.

A while later, settled back in my chair, I heard her make a noise and I looked up from my book. Madeline was on her stomach, her face buried in the comforter. I immediately jumped from the chair and rolled her onto her back. I was tired, but I was sure that I hadn’t put her on her stomach. I was equally sure that she couldn’t have just rolled over on her own.

There’s no way, I thought. I sat back down in the chair, my eyes now fixed on my daughter. In less than a minute, she was on her stomach again, letting out the same muffled cry. It was confirmed: my child had rolled over.

I crawled onto the bed and rolled her onto her back once again. I sat there next to her, smiling through the tears gathering in my eyes. This was major. But my heart broke to think that Liz had missed it. She would never see her daughter walk, her first day of school, or her prom. But at the same time, I had to rejoice: our baby had made her first move toward growing up. She gained some freedom—and I lost a lot of mine. No longer could Maddy be left unattended on the couch while I ran into the kitchen to make her a bottle; no longer could I leave her on her changing table while I ran to the bathroom to wash her crap from my hands.

Soon enough our child would be crawling, walking, running, dating, and having children of her own. It was beautiful. I was devastated that Liz wasn’t there to see it, but I was so fucking proud of how far the two of us had come together. Against all odds, Madeline was thriving, and I, well, I was getting there. And I finally believed myself when I said we were going to be okay.

Part III

Chapter 19

i couldn’t help but think

that i’m happy to have

what we have,

but

we’re totally and completely

incomplete without

liz.

i wish this weren’t happening.

It was the first day without her, the first week without her, the first month without her, the first anniversary without her. When these dates approached, I found myself tiptoeing toward them, terrified that when I opened my eyes on the dreaded day, I might completely disintegrate.

Now it was Liz’s birthday. The first one without her.

I wished I could say it was the first time I was not going to celebrate her birthday with her, but that would have been a lie. On her last birthday on this earth, I was in India on a business trip instead of at home with my pregnant wife. When I found out that the trip was necessary, integral, urgent, all of those words that make us drop everything Personal for those marked Business, I told Liz immediately. I was apologetic, and she was disappointed. But she was supportive, as always.

“Don’t worry,” she said, “we’ll have plenty more of these.”

At the time I of course believed that she was right, and that I was right to go. But we were both wrong. Last year, while I was in India, Liz spent her birthday with Anya. This year, I would be with Anya, and Liz was dead.

I woke up on September 17 and the world did not end, and I did not fall apart. I just picked up my daughter and fed her and played