Page 43 of Verdict

Desperate, I called Cohen.

He shoved his way inside my apartment less than a minute later and took Ellie from me without a word. I felt my desperation ease slightly just having someone else here with me.

"When was her last dose of medicine?" he asked while softly rocking her.

"I gave her Motrin thirty minutes ago, but she won't stop crying." My voice came out strained, on the verge of tears. Not being able to comfort your child was a new kind of hell.

He looked down at her. "Still early. It can sometimes take an hour for it to kick in."

I blinked. "How do you know that?"

Cohen kept his eyes glued to Ellie. "Let's just say I did a lot of research when you were pregnant." He glanced up at me, "Can you go turn on your shower, as hot as it can go, and shut the door?"

Confused, I nodded and did as he asked.

Once the shower was hot enough, steam visible in the room, I slipped back out, closing the door, and headed back into the living room. "Shower’s ready. What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to try sitting in the bathroom with her, see if the hot steam will help her congestion and cough." He said it as if it were the most logical thing. Which it honestly kind of was, and I instantly felt stupid.

I followed behind and sat down on the floor of the bathroom while Cohen sat on the edge of the tub with Ellie. "I thought late night hang outs with our daughter were over," I joked.

Cohen smiled and began rubbing slow, continuous circles on her back. After a few moments, Ellie settled. The fussing quieted, and her little eyes fluttered closed.

I stared at him in awe. "It worked." I felt the tight knot in my stomach ease up. "I can't believe you never wanted to be a dad." I watched as Ellie burrowed deeper into Cohen’s neck. "You're so good at it."

Something crossed Cohen’s eyes—something heavy. Sadness, maybe?

"I don't know how much Walker has told you about me." He paused. "My dad left my mom when I was two years old, and Callie was basically Ellie's age. It crushed my mom. I obviously don't have any memory of it, but even as I grew up, I could see she was never over it. She didn't date. She threw herself completely into Callie and me." He sighed. "She was an amazing mom. She sacrificed so much to make sure I could always play baseball. It got really expensive as I made my way up the ranks, but I would never have known—she kept all of that from me."

I stayed quiet. I was heartbroken. For him, for Callie, for the father they didn't have.

Walker had never shared much with me about Cohen's past. All I knew was that his mom had died when he was in college. He’d never mentioned his father, so I’d assumed they were divorced. I hadn’t realized the trauma ran so much deeper.

"Anyway, she died in a car accident when I was nineteen and away at college. Driver ran a red light. I found out during practice." He glanced back down at Ellie as he continued. “Callie was in her senior year of high school, completely alone. I ended up moving out of the dorms and back home to be there for Callie for her final year. Campus was only about twenty minutes away. Luckily, Callie had just turned eighteen, so we were both legally adults and didn't have to worry about guardianship."

"You didn't have any grandparents around to help you?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

He shook his head. "No family. Both my mother's parents had already passed at that point… never met my dad’s family."

"Wow. I can't believe you had to take all that on so young. I get why you and Callie are so close."

"Yeah, she's all I have." He ran his free hand down his face, "So, yeah. After everything I’d gone through growing up, I didn't want to have kids. I didn't want to risk ending up like my father, and losing my mom sort of did a number on me."

I reached out and squeezed his thigh gently to get him to look at me. Because with what I was about to say, I needed him to look at me. To really hear me.

“You are already different, Cohen. You stayed.”

Cohen nodded with a sad smile, his eyes casted down to our daughter sleeping against his chest.

"Tell me about her," I said but it came out more like a question.

He looked up, "My mom?"

I nodded.

He stayed quiet a moment. I was worried I'd pushed him too far until he spoke, his eyes still fixed on our daughter. "Her name was Sarah and she loved flowers. She somehow managed to have fresh flowers all over our house, all the time. She always said they made her happy, gave her a bit of light even on her darkest days. Her and Callie used to share a strawberry Pop-Tart every night together. She worked two jobs but somehow managed to make it to every single one of my games. Every Father's Day she would take us to the lake to swim, then ice cream and a movie. She never wanted us to feel like we were missing out on something other kids had." He sighed. "She was the best," he whispered.

"She sounds wonderful," I said quietly.