"You walked out on her?" My friend Oliver asks, more like shouts. Once I made it out of the hospital, I called a cab and came home. From here I called up my best friend to tell him the good news, I was now a father of a daughter, and the bad news, I walked out on her first hour of being in the real world.
"I freaked. I was ashamed Oliver. I can't give her anything. I don't know what she looks like. Does she have brown hair? Black? Blue eyes? Green? She deserves better than a blind man." I slumped over to my bed and flung myself onto it.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, man. It's not your fault." I shut my eyes, although there wasn't much point. I remember that day. It could have been prevented. "But it was my fault."