Adam

I sat in bed as Takashi packed up his things. He was leaving for the tour the following morning, but I didn't want him to leave. As I leaned against the headboard of the queen-sized bed in the giant bedroom we now shared, I tried to talk him down from it.

"Takashi, first it was buying this huge house, then it was meeting the President at the ball, then this thing with Curtis... When will it be enough for you?"

Shiro looked up at me but I couldn't recognize him. He'd changed so much- his eyes darker, jaw sharper, lips unsmiling. My heart ached for the Takashi I'd married. "I'm doing this for you, Adam. I'm doing this for us."

I smoothed my hands over the sheets of the bed and sighed, looking up at the cavernous ceiling above us. "I have everything I need, Takashi. I'm happy."

He shook his head. "You don't understand."

"I'm trying! Help me to-"

"No, you don't get it, Adam!" Shiro said, voice raised only a fraction but it felt like he was yelling. "I was treated like a failure when I lost my arm. My father was the best General they had but when something was wrong with me, I lost my job and my pride and everything I'd worked for. I won't have this family be treated like that again."

That was it, that was my breaking point. "Takashi, the adoption agency called."

Shiro suddenly stood very still. He waited for me to continue.

"They approved our request." Slowly, Shiro's features rearranged into an expression of awe. I looked away. "I need you here, Takashi. I can't do this by myself. Our son needs you. I need you."

Shiro couldn't meet my eyes.

The next morning, he left, hat in hand, leaving me alone in the giant house by myself.

After a few days, I got a call from the adoption agency. That night, I came home with a beautiful baby girl nestled in blankets. She had soft brown skin and already had little dark curls on her head. Shiro and I had agreed that, if we adopted a girl, we'd name her Amelia.

As she lay in my arms, her tiny eyelids fluttering as she looked up at me, I ran the pad of my index finger over her nose and brows, smiling as I whispered, "Hello, darling. Welcome home. You're going to love it here. It's so big." I picked up the picture frame I kept on my bedside table, inside it a photo of Takashi and I smiling as we hugged each other.

I pointed to Takashi, murmuring, "That's your Papa and I'm Daddy, beautiful girl. And we love you so so much." I looked at the photo and sighed, kissing the cold glass before setting it back down on the table.

"Papa's not here right now, but he'll be home soon and I promise we'll take care of you and love you no matter what, alright?"

I spent the next few weeks getting to know Amelia's schedule, losing sleep when she cried in the night but never losing my resolve. I'd always wanted a daughter and I'd prepared by reading every parenting book and blog I could get my hands on. I'd known that I'd need to adopt, but I'd never thought that my connection with her would be so strong.

But, even as I took care of her, fed her, laughed at her adorable baby faces, and made her giggle with her countless plushies, something deep and hollow ached in my heart. Takashi and I were supposed to be doing this together. I didn't mind getting up at the unholy hours of the night to soothe her. I didn't mind walking around the room, gently rocking her in my arms as she cried. I didn't mind any of that because I kept thinking in my head that it was just Amelia and me, alone in the house and I had no one else who could help me.

I just wanted Takashi to be here. Just so I could slip back into bed and feel his arms around me after a long night, so I could laugh with him in the kitchen when Amelia made weird gurgling noises from her spot in the Baby Bjorn I'd bought, snuggled up against my chest as I cooked, so we could admire our daughter together.

But he was off with Curtis, living the high life out there, seeing new theaters and dining with the wealthy and making small talk over flutes of champagne. I envied and hated the things that had taken him away from me, but I could never bring myself to hate him myself. Every time I faltered, thinking of the man he'd become, memories of the Takashi I'd married, the man who I'd entrusted my heart to, smiling and laughing and kissing me under the stars with the very same cosmos in his eyes, that man came to mind. And I loved him more than anything.

It hurt, though, more than I cared to admit. Alone in this mansion, I danced by myself in this lavish lap of luxury and I hated it. I loved our apartment in the city, no matter how many leaks in the ceiling it had or how many times the heat had stopped working in the dead of winter. This house wasn't a home- it was a showpiece, though I'd never admit that to Takashi. Every day I wished he'd come home, prove me wrong, tell me that he just wanted me and our daughter and the homeliness and familiarity of the circus.

I waited. I longed for him and his strong arm wrapped around my waist and that stupid sparkle he got in his eyes when he had an unplanned, risky idea that I went along with because he was my soulmate and there was nothing I wouldn't do for him. I just wondered if he felt the same way. If I called him, begging him to come home, would he?

One year ago, I would have been able to answer that question in a heartbeat.

Now, I wasn't so sure.