A Million-Dollar Girl

“Mom, why can’t we go to Dad?” The daughter who ran into the kitchen points at the tablet with her finger. On the screen is Oleg. A famous blogger—the dream of every first.

“I told you not to touch my equipment…” I sigh tiredly, crouching down in front of Polinka.

“You have your own phone.”

“But it’s a push-button one!” my daughter complains.

“On it, you can’t show Dad.”

“And let’s go to him already!”

“No, we won’t go!” I cut her off more harshly than I need to. “He’s not your father, no matter what anyone says.”

For Oleg, this was an adventure in a hot country. For me, it was nights of love after which I gave birth. And no one would ever know I have a child from a famous blogger—if my daughter didn’t look exactly like him, like two drops of water.