I want to punch him.
“Thank you again,” Anastacia says so damn nicely.
He finally lets go of the folder and turns his attention to her.
“Denise at the front will make your next appointment. It was lovely meeting you. Congratulations on being parents. I’ll see you in a few days.”
He leaves the room, and Anastacia gives me a look like she thinks I’m being silly as she takes the folder, glances through it, and shoves it into the diaper bag.
“What? I don’t trust the guy.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“He looks a few days older than Dorothea.”
She laughs loudly, and it makes me smile.
“You’re being ridiculous because you’re being overprotective, and I think it’s sweet,” she says, puckering her lips for a kiss. So I lean down and kiss her.
“Does it bother you that he thinks I’m her dad?”
She frowns. “Why would that bother me?”
“Because I’m not.”
Her hand goes to my chest. “She’d be lucky if you were.”
“I… are you okay with that?” I pick up the carrier and the diaper bag.
“Well, considering your name is on the birth certificate, I guess I should be.” Then she walks out.
“Itwhat?” I hiss as I hurry after her. “Are you serious?”
She huffs a laugh. “It wasn’t my doing. If it’s a problem, talk to your guys.”
She seems humored by this whole thing, while I’m freaking out.
Though, I couldn’t tell you why. This only makes things easier for us.
It’s just so official. I’m freaking out that she’s going to freak out, but she’s perfectly fine. So what the fuck is my problem?
“It’s not a problem,” I say, then ask, “Is it a problem for you?”
She sighs, turning to me. We stop in the middle of the bright hall. Clouds and cute animals are painted on the walls. Each door is a different color that goes with the color of the room inside. You can really tell this is the pediatrics side of this office.
“I know this is strange, what we have and what we’ve been doing. It’s not traditional, and it feels like it should be weird, but Grizz, it’s not. I love what we have. The life and family we’re building. It all just feels right.”
“Yeah, it does,” I agree.
“I’m happy with how things are and where they’re going. I don’t want anything to change. Do you?”
“Fuck no.”
“Then stop worrying about it.”
I feel the frown on my face. “How don’t you worry about anything?”
With a sigh, her hand comes up to my forearm, squeezing gently.
