Her body goes rigid the moment I sit down beside her. Our thighs brush for a split second. Tension snaps something low in my stomach before she subtly shifts an inch away.
I follow her, leaning closer to the babies, then mutter, "Holy hell."
I've never seen anyone so small. Or so terrifying.
The one on Valentina's left arm sleeps with her fist curled up near her cheek, lips parted in a soft O. The one on her right wiggles, nose scrunching like he's about to make his displeasure known.
Zara beams from across the couch. "Meet Willow and River."
I clear my throat and grin. "Thank God they look like you."
Zara throws her head back and laughs. "Everyone keeps saying that."
"That's the truth," Sean agrees, smiling just as wide.
I run a finger down Willow's cheek, pretending this moment is normal and nothing's fractured between the woman holding the babies and me.
"They're precious, aren't they?" Valentina asks in a soft tone, looking at them lovingly and holding them as if she were built to protect them.
Something unfamiliar twists in me. It's not the sharp, unwanted pull I've felt around her since before the Underworld ripped the ground out from under us. Nor is it guilt or anger. It's something soft I don't want to acknowledge, and as much as I need to remember she's an Abruzzo, everything's changed since that damn ritual.
I smile at her, enjoying seeing her without her guard up, but it's brief.
Zara chirps, "Do you want to hold one?"
Sean stiffens. "He hasn't washed his hands."
"I'm not filthy," I grumble.
"Go wash them. It's worth the inconvenience," Valentina offers.
I nod and rise. I head to the kitchen sink, scrubbing like I'm preparing for surgery.
I sit back next to Valentina and reach for River.
Sean hovers like I'm holding a bomb, warning, "You have to hold the back of his head."
I cradle River and remind him, "It's not the first baby I've held."
"You've always been good with babies," Zara acknowledges.
"Thanks," I say, then coo, "You're a good-looking O'Malley, aren't you, little guy?"
He stretches slightly in my arms, tiny mouth puckering.
Zara informs, "He's been screaming at everyone else. Looks like he likes you."
We stay in that strange bubble for a while, talking about feedings and diapers and how Sean nearly passed out in the delivery room. Nothing deep. Nothing dangerous. Just small talk that feels like a borrowed piece of history with Valentina and me sneaking glances at each other between new topics.
Zara eventually stands. "Valentina, come help me put the babies down?"
She nods, rises from the couch with River, her dress sliding over her thighs in a way I try not to track.
Zara takes Willow from me and leads them into the babies' bedroom.
"How's it feel?" I ask him.
He arches his eyebrows. "Being a father?"
