As I watched her sleeping in my arms, I couldn't help but wonder how I could deserve so much happiness.
The beauty of this fragile, perfect being never ceased to amaze me and I thanked God for my perfect vision in the quiet times like these, when I could look at her for hours at a time, could marvel at the shape of her soft and tiny hands, could stroke her beautiful hair.
She was mine. This perfect creature belonged to me.
I had this same revelation at least once every day. But on nights like these, when her eyelids slowly fluttered shut and her breathing slowed, this became my ever-present mantra.
She. Was. Mine.
How was it possible to believe you were the happiest you could ever be, and one girl was able to change it all in a fraction of a second?
I began to hum a quiet tune, one that spoke only a small speck of my love for this being. I felt the covers rustle and the small form in my arms began to move.
"Daddy?"
I couldn't help it as my smile grew when I looked into my daughter's eyes, the very same warm chocolate that had once belonged to my perfect wife, and kissed her forehead softly.
"Go back to sleep, Renesmee."
She reached up with one of her tiny hands and touched my cheek. I chuckled.
"Yes, love. I will finish the song in the morning. Now go back to sleep."
My angel yawned widely. "Goodnight, Daddy."
"Goodnight, sweetheart."
As sleep once again claimed my little Renesmee, I felt the perfect little hand slip into mine. I didn't think it possible before our quiet little exchange, but my smile grew even wider and even more love swelled in my dead heart.
Yes. She was mine.
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