“What?” I say as I stand up.
I glance at her back to find dark red splotches that look sore and itchy. “She has a rash,” she says with panic in her voice. “Oh god, she has a rash.”
“Fuck,” I murmur as I step closer to inspect the marks.
Maya glances at me with disappointment on her face. “How did you not know?”
“Maya,” I exhale. “I just?—”
“You need to pay attention to her! What have you been doing all this time?”
My stomach bottoms out, and bile rises in my throat as I stare at our daughter before raising a hand to her forehead to find her skin heating up. I’m awash with immediate shame. I’ve been wrapped up in my thoughts all day and ignored what was most important.
Skye immediately begins to cry, and Maya attempts to soothe her. “It’s okay,” she murmurs as she rocks her from side to side. “Give me your phone.”
I slide it out of my pocket and hand it to her as she races to do something. “What do we do?”
Why do I feel utterly helpless? I know nothing about being a father, and if this is just the beginning, then I’m going to keep letting them down.
“I’m calling the doctors.”
My heart is beating so fast that sweat trickles down my back.
How did I not realise? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You’re a terrible father.
They’re better off without you.
You’ll only end up disappointing them.
“Maya, I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I-I don’t know what happened.”
She glances at me with anger in her eyes. “You had one job, Finn. One job. It doesn’t take a genius to work out when a baby has a temperature, or even the rash on her back, and it could be serious. I don’t even know how long she’s been like this.”
Oh god. My chest tightens, and nausea makes a reappearance.
Maya presses the phone to her ear, and I listen to the conversation with the doctor, who urges us to take her to get seen as soon as possible. I blink back the tears that build in my eyes at knowing I enabled this.
I grab my keys and help Maya get Skye settled into her seat, but she won’t look at me. She’s breathing unevenly, and her entire body is shaking.
“I’m sorry,” I say again and feel my bones begin to crumble.
“Let’s just go,” she says as she climbs into the passenger seat.
It doesn’t take long to get to the infant clinic, and every minute that ticks by, more guilt rides on my shoulders.
Shit father. Shit father. Shit father.
And I believe it because that’s exactly what I am.
CHAPTER 50
MAYA BROOKE
As soon as we got the all clear from the doctor, I finally took a breath. At first, I thought she might have some kind of viral infection, but the doctor said she doesn’t have any cold-like symptoms.
He put it down to overheating. The temperature in the house might have been too high, and she was wearing too many clothes. Now her rashes have started to fade, I’ve stripped back her layers and allowed her skin to breathe.
