Page 126 of When a Soul Cries

“Rome.”

“Eat.”

“I can—”

“I know you can.”

Her lips closed.

I leaned my hands against the island.

“I’m starting to realize that’s your favorite damn sentence. *I can do it. I got it. I’m fine.*”

Her expression changed.

I straightened.

“I’m not saying you can’t do shit for yourself, Sol. I’m saying you don’t have to prove it every five minutes.”

For a moment, she didn’t speak.

Then she picked up her fork.

“Thank you.”

I nodded and sat across from her.

At first, she ate slowly.

Then hunger took over.

Her bites became quicker. She finished half the plate before she seemed to realize how fast she was eating and suddenly slowed down.

I looked away before embarrassment could reach her face.

But my stomach had already twisted.

She was hungry.

Really fucking hungry.

And from the way she had made sure Halo ate before she ever touched her own plate, I had a feeling that wasn’t unusual.

I didn’t ask.

Not yet.

---

Halo was asleep less than an hour later.

Sol stood beside the guest bed staring down at her.

I stayed in the doorway.

She had been standing there for several minutes, watching the baby’s chest rise and fall.

“You always do that?” I asked quietly.