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“He has,” I admit, my cheeks warm. “I felt bad, so I tried to seduce him. Just to make him feel good. But then he tried to turn it back on me and my anxiety went through the roof. It’s been uncomfortable every time we’ve tried, and every time we’ve failed, it just makes me want to do it less. I don’t even…” I pause, thinking of how to best word it without getting vulgar. “I don’t even self-lubricate like before. It’s not my husband. I find him just as attractive as always. If anything, he’smoreattractive now that I see what a great husband and father he is.”
“Unfortunately, that’s just another natural occurrence postpartum. It can take some couples several months to find their groove again. And for mommy to feel as good as you used to. There is no one solution except to invest in store-bought lubrication, vary sexual positions until you find what works, and work on your connection. The more mentally connected you feel, the more physically connected your body will be. The more likely it’ll respond as you’d like for it to.
“This circles back to what I was saying, Delphine. You need to find a balance for old you. The Delphine you were pre sweet little baby Dominic,” she explains. “I’d prefer we keep it to natural remedies for the time being, and if the issue continues or becomes worse, then we can look at medicative treatment. What activities did you used to enjoy?”
I don’t even hesitate before answering. “Running. I used to go for daily runs in the park.”
Doctor Lee beams. “That sounds like an excellent hobby to get back into. You’ll get plenty of fresh air and sun, and physical activity will help regulate your hormones. What else?”
“Reading. I’ve been reading since Dom, but only baby books and books on motherhood.”
“Try a thriller or a steamy romance,” Doctor Lee laughs. “You’ll get there, Delphine. You just have to give it time.”
I leave my postpartum checkup feeling as if a massive weight has been lifted from my shoulders. The spring sunshine feels noticeably warmer on my skin as I join Stitches and we venture into the parking lot.
“You look happy,” he says. “Good checkup?”
“You have no idea,” I answer. “Let’s stop at the bookstore on Bankston Avenue.”
He grins. “My pleasure! I can check out the new issues to hit the comic section.”
We make it within ten feet of our car before I hear my name. Someone’s calling me from afar, a voice that’s unmistakably familiar.
My insides contort into knots. I can only stare as Dad waves a hand in the air and then sets off toward us.
Stitches acts like he’s been powered by a light switch—it’s almost like he’s channeling Salvatore in energy as he immediately scowls and grinds his teeth. He wards off Dad’s approach by getting to him before he can get to us. He cuts Dad off well before he gets within several feet of me.
“Where do you think you’re going, Mr. Mayor?” he asks. “Authorized family only. Unfortunately, you’re not on the access list.”
Dad tears his gaze from me and scalds Stitches with a hard stare. “Who the hell do you think you are? You think some irrelevant goon like yourself is going to stop me from seeing my daughter and grandson? Get out of my way!”
“I don’t think so. This irrelevant goon will fuck you up before you get within breathing space. Try me.” Stitches jams a finger into Dad’s chest.
He winces with half a step taken backward. “Don’t touch me, or I’ll have you arrested!”
“Doubtful! I’ll K.O. you before you can even dial the second one in nine-one-one!”
I’m standing at a lost for words as I witness a scene I never imagined would unfold—Stitches, my most loyal bodyguard, battling my father in a public parking lot.
Dominic gurgles from where he lays and draws my attention to him. He’s woken up from his nap and peers up at me with big, innocent eyes and the softest expression.
We can’t do this here. We can’t cause another scene like the one months ago when Dad showed up in my birthing room.
I gently stroke Dominic’s head, checking to ensure he’s okay, before I return my attention to the spectacle in front of me.
“Go ahead, Mr. Mayor!” Stitches is yelling. He points at his jaw. “I’ll give you the first swing! Go on and take your best shot!”
“You’d be so lucky to be punched by me,” Dad scoffs. “You think I don’t know how grimy lowlifes like you operate? I hit you and you take me to court for fake hospital bills. Some of us have things to lose by acting like lawless cretins.”
“Insult me one more time and you’re getting your ass whooped!”
“STOP IT!” I shout over both of them.
They forget about each other and break their necks turning their heads in my direction.
“Please,” I croak, gesturing to the stroller. “Dominic shouldn’t be around fighting. He doesn’t need to hear you raising your voices. You’ll frighten him.”
My scolding does the trick. Both men have the decency to look ashamed of themselves. Dad develops a heavy expression and bows his head. Stitches scratches the back of his neck with the tips of his ears shining beet red.
