“Do you need anything?”
Not anymore. I needed you yesterday. I don’t say any of that, though. I understand why he’s not in town. I’m just fucking bitter because the one fucking day I needed everyone, they weren’t around. And yet, it’s okay. I glance at Nathalie and the baby. “I have everything I need.”
I mean all five words.
Sure, I love my bandmates, but having these two with me is plenty, and that thought scares the shit out of me. I haven’t felt fear in a long time and now I’m frightened by my thoughts and emotions.
“Are you sure? I can send you whatever you need,” he insists.
“I have it all,” I repeat.
It sounds like I have what’s required to tend to a newborn, but that’s not what I mean. I mean that I have the two people who matter. I just don’t know why or how much they matter.
“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me. Blaire, my sister in-law, said to tell you that she’s just a phone call away if you have another emergency. She can be your on-call doctor. She’s angry about the whole lactose intolerance incident. They should’ve caught it days ago.”
You’d think, but knowing Laura, she prioritized her comfort and needs. “Wait, Blaire knows? It just happened a few hours ago.”
“Lang was concerned. He seems to have a soft spot for the little dude. By the way, Grace wants to meet him. Instead of staying in Belgium during her two-week break, we’re coming home.”
Assuming he’s not aware of the paternity test, I warn him about it. He might arrive with dozens of presents right as Lang takes him back to his rightful father. I sound too fucking bitter. I wish I could be like Beacon. He had as shitty of a childhood as I did, but he still believes in happiness and love. I prefer to stay away from it. Except, I’m not against keeping the little demon and Nathalie close—forever.
I turn to look at them. Nat’s head rests against the back of the couch. Her eyes are closed. She holds tightly to the baby, who’s sleeping just as peacefully as she is. I want to preserve this moment. Put it in a time capsule. I’ll bury it deep in my heart. In twenty years, when I’m alone, I can dig it out and remember them. I can remember how it feels to be whole.
I wish I could transport them to my house in Seattle—to my sanctuary. It’d be just the three of us. We wouldn’t leave for days. It’d be the three of us strolling the gardens, playing in the backyard, or swimming in…I freeze. What the fuck am I thinking?
I can never take them there.
Never.
I shouldn’t even toy with the idea of claiming them. I don’t deserve to have good things. And I’m not talking about material things. I’m wealthy enough to have everything I want. There are two things I can’t buy and those are love or a family.
“Hey, I don’t know what’s going on inside that head of yours, but I hope you don’t fuck up things because of the past,” he warns me. “If he’s not yours, we’ll be there for you, okay.”
“If he’s not mine, I’ll be fine.”
“Fish, don’t pretend that you don’t give a shit. You’re hooked on the baby and the doctor.”
Am I? He hasn’t been here in more than a month. Why is he saying that?
“What are you talking about?” I ask, perplexed.
“Hey, I gotta go. Grace just finished playing. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
After he hangs up, I find a blanket for Nat and the baby. I snap a few pictures of them. Then, I spend a couple of hours watching them together.
I wish for something I shouldn’t want and hope not to wake up from what might be a sweet dream. People like me don’t deserve nice things.
I have to pay the price for my actions and this lifetime might not be enough.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Fisher
How long does it take to fall in love?
Some say it can be in the blink of an eye.
Instantly.
Others say it takes years. You have to build a relationship based on trust and understanding.
Three days ago, I didn’t believe either one. Now…
For me, it happened between the moment when Lang dropped off the baby on my doorstep and now. At some point, when I wasn’t watching, I fell tragically and unavoidably in love with the little demon.
Would I kill for him? Probably.
Would I die for him? Definitely.
And that scares me more than him crying for an entire night because his stomach was hurting. Thanks to our guardian angel, Nat, he’s a totally different person. I swear he’s all smiles and happiness—even when Dr. Hottie insists that he can’t smile this soon.
She claims it’s gas because babies aren’t supposed to smile until they’re much older. I call that scientific bullshit. My boy is happy.
My chest tightens at the thought of him not being mine.
“Stop walking back and forth, Fish. He’ll be here soon.”
“We should run away to a private island. We’ll change our names,” I suggest. “No one will be able to take him away from us.”
“Why are you assuming the worst?”
“If the little demon were mine, he would’ve called.”
“Can we pick a name? Little demon sounds too…weird.”
“What’s the point?”
“Are you always this pessimistic?”
I stop and look at her. “Sorry, is my anguish bothering you, Princess?”
She smiles.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.”
“Nat.”
“You’re not allowed to call me that.”
“I clearly heard your friend Amber calling you that. Also, what did you bet? I can send you two wherever you want on vacation after the demon turns eighteen.”
She laughs. “You think I’m going to stick around that long?”
“Like you can resist him. That kid coos and you’re by his side immediately. Plus, you said we’re in this together. That’s an eighteen-year commitment. In fact, I dare you to put him back in his crib.”
When she’s around, the little demon is always in her arms. Every time she leaves the house he’s looking for her. They have a pretty strong bond. I hope she doesn’t leave us and break our hearts.
She looks at him. “According to the How to Grow a Healthy Adult book, we shouldn’t be holding him this often. In my opinion, they’re wrong. Loving and cuddling someone isn’t spoiling. It’s…well, loving.”
“Did your parents cuddle you as much?”
Her gaze never leaves the baby as she says, “They were too busy and too old to deal with an infant. The nannies raised me.”
Ouch, that’s pretty shitty. “Sorry.”
She shrugs as if it doesn’t matter. “How about you?”
I’m thankful that the door opens before I have to tell her anything about my fucked-up childhood.
Byron steps in. Behind him are Grace, Beacon, and Sanford. Thank fuck San is okay. I’ve been worried sick about him.
“You could’ve messaged me that you were alive,” I say, hugging him tightly.
“No news is good news, Daddy Fish,” Sanford answers. “I’m well and alive. Ready to play Uncle San.”