"Take it easy, love. We don't want you to get hurt," I say, taking Olivia's small hand and helping her get off the couch.

“Thank you, dada” she says with her sweet, small voice, and then runs off in search of you.

I stay where I am trying to process the word I just heard come from the lips of your three-year-old daughter.

You got pregnant by an idiot who left you alone to fend for yourself, and you still decided to keep the baby. I've been your friend since we were teenagers, and I always help you with everything. I love Olivia like she's my own daughter and treat her as such, but I never once considered that she would ever see me as her father. Even though I'm really the only father figure she has.

We've never talked about it seriously. You and I love each other, and I love Liv very much. We spend almost every day together because I can't bear the thought of going more than two days without seeing you, and now to think that the little one sees me as her father... I think I might even cry from the emotion.

I walk toward the garden where you're finishing applying sunscreen to Olivia so she can get into the pool. You put her little floatie around her waist, and she happily jumps into the water. You turn your head toward me and smile.

"Olivia called me dada" I say, trying not to cry from the emotion.