“Oh,” Is all I manage to reply.
“What?” He glances to me, some of the anger leaking away, “No smart retort about being right?”
“Why?” I shrug, matching my pace to his. “I already knew I was right.”
Chapter Twelve
Sloane absently rocks the stroller as she reads the menu propped up in front of her, the small bistro type restaurant busy for a late Friday morning. She has her back to the wall, the room ahead of her, and every now and then I catch her glance up and scan the restaurant, never pausing, just analyzing.
She becomes more interesting by the second, making me want to take her apart to find all those deep, dark secrets she’s harboring. The waitress returns with the drinks we ordered and places them on the table before she pulls out her tablet and waits for our orders. Sloane reels hers off before I do the same and then ask her to warm the bottle I have beneath the stroller, which she takes.
“Did you always want children?” Sloane asks, breaking the comfortable silence we had fallen into when we arrived.
“No,” I don’t lie, “I never saw myself as a father or a parental figure at all, actually.”
She nods quietly, her blue eyes glancing at Lily, where she’s laying happily against the soft mattress of the stroller with a blue teething ring in her mouth. “That makes sense, actually.”
“How so?” I press, thanking the waitress as she stops by the table with the warm bottle. Sloane holds out her hand for it, so I pass it across and stand to get Lily out, handing her over. She settles so naturally into the seat with Lily, my daughter cradled against her, as she gently coaxes the bottle into her mouth. Lily fights for a second but realizes quickly what it is and greedily starts to guzzle down her milk.
Sloane has her chin down, face turned to my daughter when she replies, “You want to so bad but you don’t.”
“You’ll have to explain,” I lean back in the chair and spread my knees, stretching out.
She smiles softly, “You love her, but you don’t want to show it.”
I contemplate her words, “I don’t understand it.”
“Why you love her?”
I nod but realize she isn’t looking, so give her an answer out loud, “Yeah. She existed for three months, and I had no clue, and then suddenly she was mine.”
“I think becoming a parent changes some part of our brain chemistry. We’ve learned about love our whole lives, watched it on TV, and read about it in books, and it always seems to follow a pattern, but when it comes to our children, it breaks all the rules. For a mother, they carry them for the whole nine months so they have a bond formed before their child even enters the world, they love something so greatly without even meeting them and when they finally do, it’s like everything slots into place and fathers, they go those nine months waiting, watching their child form but for them it hits hard and fast the moment their child is born. They realize quickly that they’ll burn the entire world down to protect their own blood, a small piece of them that has its own life, its own future.”
“Not all parents feel that way,” I swallow, pushing down the memories of my own parents, of the mother that left us to fend for ourselves against the monster that was our father. I have no early memories, and certainly no memories of a kind and loving family. All I know is pain and abuse from people that were meant to protect me. Killian is much the same.
Her blue eyes flick to me. “No,” She agrees, “Not all of them.”
I rub at the back of my neck, but I can’t take my eyes off her.
“But you love her,” She eventually continues, “Because she is your daughter, and that scares you, but you shouldn’t let that fear hold you back from her. She is the greatest thing that’ll ever happen to you.”
“You want kids,” It isn’t hard to determine that from her.
“Maybe one day,” A small frown forms between her brows, “Or maybe I’m just here to help and then hand them back.”
I didn’t believe that, not for one second. Our breakfast arrives halfway through Lily’s feed, but when Sloane makes no move to eat, I get up to take Lily from her.
“I can do it.” She protests.
“You eat, I’ll feed.”
“Didn’t you hire me?” She laughs.
“Right now, we’re off the clock.”
“Then you can take it off my wages,” She plucks up her fork and stabs a potato before popping it between her lips.
“Absolutely not,” I focus on my daughter instead of the woman across from me or the way her lips wrap around the fork.
