“Okay. Text me the address?”
“I will. Thanks again, Gwen. I…really appreciate it,” he said, clearing his throat.
“I’ll see you later.” I smiled, hanging up.
“Who was that?” My dad’s sudden appearance at my desk caught me by surprise—I hadn’t heard him come in.
I straightened in my seat, trying to exude professional confidence. “That was Alaric. He had a family emergency come up and needs to go pick up his daughter. They’re still on site in Barrie, so I offered to babysit.”
My explanation didn’t seem to ease his suspicion. Avoiding his analytical gaze, I shut down the computer and gathered my things. “That was helpful of you.”
I shrugged, not looking up. “It’s not a big deal, Dad.” In the corner of my eye, I saw him nodding. Finally lifting my head, I gave him a reassuring smile. “Can you lock up?”
“Of course I can lock up.” Dad scowled.
“Thanks, Dad.” I kissed him on the cheek. “See you tomorrow morning, okay?”
Alaric
“Gwen mentioned something about a family emergency. Is everything okay?” Russell asked, intercepting me on my dash to the truck. I paused, turning to address him.
“Yes, sir. My ex went into labour. She’s a few months early, and needs me to take care of our daughter.” I explained.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Russell said after a moment.
I hesitated, clearing my throat. “I might need to take tomorrow off. I’ll be setting up temporary daycare, but I’ll need the day to do that. I hate to ask, but—”
“I understand,” he replied, clapping me on the shoulder. He opened his mouth, about to say something further. Then he thought the better of it and nodded instead. “Just keep me informed.”
“Will do,” I told him, turning and opening the door. I drove as quickly as I legally could, unsure of what state I’d find Sawyer in. I hadn’t been able to reach Cheryl or Mason, and I had no idea how much Sawyer knew about what was happening.
Jogging up the walkway to Gwen’s building entrance, I opened the glass door and climbed the steps. I paused in the hallway, listening to the voices coming from inside her apartment. Hers and Sawyer’s. It felt natural, and my ears craved more of it.
Raising my fist, I knocked lightly, and a few moments later the door opened. Gwen grinned at me, standing aside to let me in. “You got here quicker than we thought! We’re just finishing up a game of Go Fish. Sawyer’s kicking my behind, of course.”
Walking through her door, I spotted Sawyer sitting on the couch, holding cards in her hands. “Hi, Daddy!”
Although she was smiling, the slight indentation between her brows hinted that she was concerned. “Hey, munchkin. Ready to go home?”
“Yes.” Sawyer nodded, setting her stack of cards down carefully on the coffee table. “Can we call Mommy?”
“We can try.” My eyes flitted to Gwen’s. “Thank you,” I told her while Sawyer put on her shoes.
She nodded, smilingly lightly at me. When Sawyer’s head was turned, I stole a kiss, a fleeting brush of my lips against hers. “Text me later?” she whispered.
I nodded, stealing another lingering glance at her before taking Sawyer’s hand.
The drive home was silent with Sawyer staring almost blankly out the window. My eyes kept going to her reflection in the rearview mirror. “Everything will be fine, Soy-bean.”
“My sister’s not supposed to come until October,” Sawyer said hollowly, sniffling.
“Maybe she’s just so excited to see you that she couldn’t wait,” I replied, my lips tugging up a little. This brought a small smile to Sawyer’s face. She was too young to worry about all the challenges preterm babies faced, and that realization made my throat tighten.
Tig was waiting by the front door when we got home, and when Sawyer saw him, she wrapped her arms around him and snuggled into his fur.
We tried calling Cheryl a couple of times—once when we got home, and once before bed. Both times, we got her voicemail, and Sawyer left messages about how much she loved her and missed her.
She was so worried about her baby sister and her mom that it took her hours to fall asleep. I had to lay in her bed and rub her back until she finally drifted off, assuring her repeatedly that everything would be okay, and hoping like hell it would.
