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about her well-being over mine.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you still never denied what she told me the day my water broke. Is it true you want joint custody? Is it true you’re trying to have a baby with her?” I question, raising the pitch of my voice as I plead for answers.

Standing up, he moves toward the window and glances outside, his back facing me. He is still dressed in his gray pants and a white shirt, abandoning his tie as he does every night.

In front of the window, his body stands tall, and for a moment, I wonder what it’s like to lean my head against his back and wrap my arms around him. I snap back to reality as soon as he opens his mouth.

“It’s true about the joint custody. I’m scared, okay? I have no idea what to expect. I don’t want to be a dad who visits his kid every other weekend. I want to see him every day,” he stammers, unable to control the emotion behind his admission.

“And the baby stuff? About you trying?”

“I was drunk and off my face on some shit Marcus gave me after we go into an argument over you. I’d have told the homeless guy around the corner I wanted to have babies with him.”

This changes everything, but it shouldn’t. He provides an explanation to my questions that have haunted me ever since my lunch with Eloise. But the big question, the one still yet to be answered properly, is why is he still marrying her? I’m in the mood to ask again, and frankly, I’m sick and tired of lying in this bed. I miss my real bed. I miss being a normal, functioning human who can shower without the assistance of a nurse. And most of all, I miss everything about the former Presley, the one who had her whole life planned out.

“I’m tired,” I yawn, turning my back to him.

“I should probably go.”

I cover the rest of myself with a blanket and nestle my head into the pillow. With Masen fast asleep, I’m hoping to catch a few extra hours of sleep tonight myself.

Haden walks over to Masen and kisses him gently on the forehead. With a placid smile, he walks around the bed, ready to leave the room, but just before he does, I blurt out to him, “You can see Masen every day, I promise you that. We’ll make this work, Haden.”

He stops just shy of the door and turns back to face me. Not saying a word, his lips curve upward, and he gives me the most genuine heartfelt smile—the Haden smile that always melts my insides, triggering those butterflies to spread their wings and flutter in delight. I smile in return, and without any more words left to say, our actions speak the loudest.

It’s the biggest commitment we can make, the commitment to raise our child together.

Twenty-Two

Motherhood.

No amount of textbooks and advice can prepare you for it. And those damn diaper commercials, what a load of crap. Guess what? A baby cries nonstop and for no apparent reason. I have a mental checklist.

Hungry.

Wet.

Gassy.

Tick, tick, tick! But when I’ve ticked it all off, what then?

We are forced to stay in the hospital for a couple more days, just as a precaution. This is not the news I want to hear, and it makes me sob like a baby. The nurse said it is normal to feel emotional after giving birth due to my hormones being all over the place. Argh! I am so sick of these damn hormones and crying at the drop of a hat.

My parents returned for another week before Dad had to go back to work. It is great having them around, but sometimes my mom drives me insane. Every time someone walks through the door, she makes them sanitize their hands. Yeah, trust me, I’m all for a germ-free environment, but she is over the top. She also drives the young nurses insane, talking about the way hospitals were back in her day. I think they were glad to see me go just so they wouldn’t have to deal with her ever again.

Haden continued with his visits, but still no Eloise. Apparently, she’s got the flu and didn’t want the baby to catch it. Fair enough. I don’t pry further, but we both know it is a load of shit.

The day the doctors give the all-clear, I am beyond ecstatic to finally leave the hospital. Talk about paranoia, Haden hires some car with an extra special car seat fitted by some expert, but I let him do whatever keeps him happy, considering the stress he is under. It is evident, and he’s dropped a lot of weight, not to mention that ridiculous beard has made a comeback. Every time I ask him if he is okay, he grunts and walks away.

Settling at home with Masen is harder than I thought it’d be. During the day, he sleeps like an angel, but at night, boy, does he have a set of lungs on him. It isn’t until the end of the first week that I’ve establish a routine and get him to settle down for a couple of hours at night. Kate is a godsend, and even though I feel like I’m imposing on her personal space, she’s always quick to shut me down.

“For the millionth time, I love having you here. Do you know what I’d be doing right now if you weren’t here? Buying some sort of wonder mop from an infomercial I got stuck watching while shoving spoons of ice cream in my mouth.”

“But I feel bad. You can’t exactly bring somebody home to a crying baby.”

“Trust me, doll, the last time I brought somebody home was when Justin Timberlake was still dating Britney. Besides, the men I get involved with like to keep personal space exactly that—personal. I swear I pick the wrong men.”

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