My husband insisted on bathing alone our little daughter every night. But one night, when I secretly followed him, I felt the world crumbling under my feet.
For three weeks, my husband Daniel refused to have anyone else bathe our two-year-old daughter. Not even me.
At first it didn’t seem strange. I’ve always been a loving father. He was exhausted from work, but he always found time to play with Emma. Sometimes he said that bath time was his special tradition of father and daughter.
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But little by little Emma’s behavior changed.
Every night, as soon as Daniel took his white towel, my daughter was nervous. He ran to me, held fast to my legs, and cried:
“Let Mom do it… not Dad.”
The first time, Daniel just laughed.
“He just doesn’t want to today. He’s two years old. He will want something else tomorrow.”
But the next night it happened again. And also the next one.
Each time, Daniel took her in his arms, took her to the bathroom and closed the door. I opened the tap so I couldn’t hear what was going on inside. When he tried to get in, he would stand in front of the door.
“I take it. Go get some rest.”
One night I saw a small metal box hiding in my pocket. I asked him what it was. Daniel’s expression changed instantly.
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“It’s a thing of work.”
“Then why are you taking her to the bathroom?”
He looked at me silently for a few seconds.
“I already told you it’s nothing important.”
I couldn’t sleep that night.
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Emma’s scary face kept appearing in my mind. I remembered how she had held on to me by begging me not to let her father bathe her.
The next morning I saw a red mark on his back.
“What is this?” I asked.
Daniel didn’t even look at me.
“He probably scratched himself while playing.”
“Didn’t you see him last night when you bathed her?”
“No.”
He quickly picked up the keys and left the house. That’s when I felt real fear.
During the day I called our pediatrician. The receptionist told me that we had not gone to the consultation in the last few weeks. I asked him if Daniel had called, but he replied that he could not give me that information.
When I returned home that night, I had already decided that I would bathe Emma myself.
“Tonight I will,” I said as I took the towel.
Daniel stood before me.
“No, Laura.”
His voice was calm, but his face was tense.
“She is also my daughter.”
“I know.”
“Then step away.”
“I can’t.”
I looked into him in the eye and whispered:
“What are you hiding from me?”
Daniel got pale. For a moment I thought you’d tell me everything. But then he took Emma in his arms and took her to the bathroom.
This time closed the door with key from the inside.
A few moments later, my daughter started crying.
“It hurts, Dad…”
Then I heard the voice of Daniel:
“I know, sweetheart. Hold on a little longer. Mom still can’t know.”
My heart was about to stop.
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I couldn’t wait any longer.
Fortunately, we kept a spare key for the bathroom in our bedroom. I took him and ran into the hallway. But at the last moment I stopped.
If I went in, Daniel would probably find an explanation again.
Instead, I decided to follow him.
After bathing, he put Emma to bed. Then he put on his jacket and left the house. I called our neighbor and asked her to stay with Emma for a few minutes. Then I got in the car and followed my husband.
He stopped outside a children’s hospital on the other side of the city.
With the same small metal can in his hand, he entered the building.
I followed him and saw him go to the basement. At the door was:
“Department of Pediatric Oncology”
I refused my legs.
Daniel went to an elderly doctor and retrieved several small glass bottles as well as photos of Emma’s back from the can.
“The stain was redder today,” he said. “It hurt her again when the water touched her skin.”
The doctor opened a patient record.
“The final results are here.”
I could no longer remain silent.
“What results?”
Daniel turned around. When he saw me, his face became chalk-blemish.
“Laura? How are you…”
“What’s wrong with our daughter?”
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The doctor asked us to take a seat.
It turned out that Daniel had discovered a small dark spot on Emma’s back three weeks earlier. The pediatrician had immediately referred her to a specialist. A rare and dangerous skin disease was suspected.
Until the results of the examination were available, Daniel had to clean the affected area every evening with a special medical solution. This caused a slight burning, which is why Emma cried.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I sobbed.
Daniel lowered his head.
Du has letztes Jahr zwei Schwangerschaften verren. Als der Arzt mir sagte, was sie vermuteten, erinnerte ich mich daran, wie du mich im Krankenhaus angefleht hast, dir keine schlechten Nachrichten mehr zu sagen, bevor sie bestätigt sind. Ich dachte, ich könnte diese Last ein for Tage allein tragen.
“Und warum hat Emma gesagt, is it sei ein Geheimnis?”
Seine Augen füllten sich mit Tränen.
I asked him not to tell you anything about the medicine. I wanted to protect you. But I didn’t realize how scary everything should look like from your point of view.
I couldn’t look him in the eye.
The worst thoughts had already invaded my mind, while he carried alone, night after night, in fear that we could lose our daughter.
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The doctor left a document on the table.
The tumor is completely benign. Your daughter is not in danger. The stain should disappear in a few weeks.
Daniel closed his eyes and, for the first time in front of me, burst into tears.
I approached him and hugged him tightly.
When we returned home that night, we entered Emma’s room together. He slept hugging his stuffed rabbit with both arms.
Daniel kissed his forehead and whispered:
“It won’t hurt anymore, honey.
I took his hand.
Since that day there have been no more secrets in our home.
And from then on, we always bathe Emma together.