I clomp toward my dark room and perch on the edge of the bed, grabbing my head between my hands.
“Dad?” Mere knocks and the doorknob turns.
Will she come in today?
“Are you angry?” she asks, standing at the threshold.
When I shake my head, she hesitates before taking a step in and peering around.
How many years has it been since she’s come in here?
Two, three? I don’t remember.
She looks at Melanie’s bedside and I follow her gaze.
“You didn’t move anything?” Mere whispers in wonder at the magazines and lotion bottles on the side table.
“I move it while cleaning the room.” My voice comes out defensive.
She stands in front of her mother’s picture and then places a kiss on her cheek. When she turns to me, there are tears glistening in her eyes.
“Mere.” My throat constricts. I get up from the bed and pull her into a hug. It’s been ages since we both shed tears for Melanie together.
“We deserve to be happy, Dad,” she mumbles into my chest. “Mom wouldn’t want us to be sad.”
I nod. I know Melanie would want us to be happy. But after all these years, I just don’t know how to be anything else. I know it’s not healthy, but this room, around her, is the only place where I feel myself.
Mere glances up at me. “You need to let her go.” Her hands squeeze my waist and I’m sure she isn’t missing the fear on my face.
How can I let her go? If Melanie goes, what will be left of me?
“I hate to see you like this.” Tears race down my daughter’s cheeks.
I hug her tight, holding her close to my chest. Today, I have my daughter with me after so many years and I just want to cherish this moment.
Time passes by until we both relax, our heartbeats returning to normal.
“Are you angry about the kitten?” Mere rubs her face on my T-shirt, like she used to do as a kid.
“Is it yours?”
“Yes, I named her Snowy. Come, meet her.” Her lips curl up in a smile.
With a smile on her face, Mere drags me by my hand and pulls me into the living room, where Clementine is pacing restlessly with the kitten in her arms. The cat jumps upon seeing us and once again settles over my foot.
“She is such a sucker for attention.” Mere bursts into laughter. “She loves you, Dad.”
I pick up the white ball of fur.
“Where did you get it?” This cat doesn’t look like a stray.
“I found her under my window the night it was raining. She was shivering, so I brought her in. Next morning, I let her out, but she never left.” Mere shrugs.
“She looks housebroken. We should try to find the owner.” The kitten purrs as I scratch its coat.
“We did.” Clementine tells me how they have already put flyers around, checked with the lost-and-found office, and also left her number there.
A mixed feeling of unease and lightness crawls up my chest, watching Clementine with my daughter. In such a short time, she has become so important to Mere. She might know more than me about my daughter’s life right now.