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“Now I can’t imagine my life without you. Both of you.” She gently strokes Emmie’s hair.
“Do you believe in fate?” I ask.
“I don’t know. It’s hard to believe in fate because that means I was supposed to lose my dad at seventeen and then watch my mom slowly fade away. That kind of fate seems downright cruel. At the same time, maybe it’s what brought you and Emmie to me, and I’m insanely grateful for that. What about you? Do you believe in fate?”
“In some ways. I think some people are supposed to find each other. I know with certainty that my best friends and I were destined to be in each other’s lives. Even if we hadn’t found each other when we did, I fully believe we eventually would have.” I tuck some hair behind her ear. “It’s the same with you. I think we were always meant to know each other. Meant to create this beautiful little life together.”
“You think it still would’ve happened if I hadn’t lost my dad?”
“Sure. Maybe you would’ve done your pre-law degree at SUNY Finger Lakes. Somehow, we would’ve met and the same thing would’ve happened. A one-night stand that turned into so much more.”
“You were never one night,” she says. “Before the night was even over, I knew that. I told myself otherwise. I never wanted to admit it, but I was glad when you knocked on my door that morning.”
“Love you, baby,” I whisper, dropping my lips to hers.
She twists on my lap and runs a hand through my hair as she deepens the kiss. I don’t care who or what brought her to me, I only care that she’s mine. I love her so deeply she’s woven into my soul.
A piercing cry rips the moment from us. If I’ve learned anything in the last nine days, it’s that kids interrupt everything. But when I look down at her little face, all scrunched up as she roots around, I can’t be upset about it. Emmie is woven into my soul too.
“Come here, sweetheart,” Amelia says, pulling Emmie off my chest and into her arms.
I shift so Amelia can sit more comfortably. Then she lifts her shirt and pops Emmie on her boob. I rest my hand on Emmie’s stomach, and after a moment, her tiny hand curls around my finger.
We stare out the window together, the lights on the tree growing brighter as it gets darker. And then a soft snow begins to fall. I kiss Amelia’s head and whisper, “Good first Christmas together?”
She looks down at Emmie, then over at me. “Absolutely perfect.”
Chapter seven
Never Have I Ever…
Amelia
Emmie howls from her crib as I walk away from her into the bathroom, stripping off my shirt as I go. I’m covered in baby puke, and now that I’ve gotten her cleaned up and changed, I need to get changed too. I stop short when I see Miles standing by the shower, not moving.
Running my hand down his arm, I say, “Are you okay?” He jumps and turns toward me, eyes moving rapidly. “Miles,” I say, one eyebrow cocked. “Did you just fall asleep standing up?”
His face scrunches. “I don’t… know.”
“That’s it.” I turn him around so he’s facing the doorway to the bedroom, then give him a push. “Go lay down.”
“But—” he argues as he walks into the room.
“No. You were up until midnight with Emmie, then still got up with me for every feeding and stayed up with her at five when she wouldn’t go back to sleep. I appreciate you letting me rest, but you need to rest, too.”
“But you’re still healing,” he says, looking back at me.
I give him a stern look. “I’m fine. Yes, I still need to heal, but it’s been three weeks and I feel a lot better now, and you need sleep. So go.” He stares at me for a beat, so I give him the kind of withering look his mom excels at. “Now.” Finally, he moves farther into the room, and I turn back, but then stop and call, “And don’t you dare—” The crying stops. “Pick her up,” I mutter under my breath.
Whatever. The man’s a masochist, and I can’t help that.
I grab a washcloth and quickly clean my shoulder and chest where Emmie puked on me. Thankfully, my hair is permanently in a messy bun at this point, so at least she didn’t get it in my hair.
When I walk back into the master, I stop and sigh. Miles is lying on the bed, asleep. Emmie is swaddled up and lying next to him, also asleep. His arm is draped over his stomach, his hand gently resting on Emmie.
He’s an amazing dad, but in order to keep being amazing, he has to take care of himself, too. If he can’t do that on his own, I’ll just have to force him.
I carefully pick Emmie up, then walk out to the living room, and delicately set her down in the portable crib, saying a prayer of thanks when she stays asleep. Then I head for the kitchen to make some breakfast.
