“I’m not gonna eat him,” I say with a smile, attempting to bring some humour into it.
Sophie remains frozen in place for a few seconds as Julian’s cries persist. Then, something in her face changes, and she sighs deeply. “Fine.” She hands me Julian, whom I carefully grab and bring against my chest.
I’m immediately overwhelmed with a feeling I can’t describe. Having this tiny, warm bundle of a human being in my arms feels so right. Without helping myself, I quickly sniff the top of his head, attempting to remain inconspicuous so that Sophie doesn’t immediately grab him back from my arms. Even though he’s not quite a newborn anymore, he still has that new baby smell that I love.
I bounce Julian as gently as I can in my arms and hold him softly against my chest. He settles his warmth into me, and even though he hasn’t stopped crying, it seems like he’s calming down a bit. Holding him against me like this feels comforting. I close my eyes and try to absorb this moment as much as I can.
Because these moments will never be mine.
A year before Sophie and Matt separated, I gave up trying to find a relationship. But I wasn’t ready to give up being a father. So, I looked into other options. I even found a willing surrogate. I was so close to getting what I wanted, which made it hurt thatmuch more when the doctor told me it would never happen for me. And since adopting is out of the question for a single man, that was it.
“Holy shit,” Sophie whispers, pulling me out of my little bubble. I open my eyes and see her standing a few feet in front of me, arms on her hips, an incredulous look on her face. She’s staring straight at Julian, who is only slightly fussing by now—nothing like his full-out cries from a few minutes before.
I wink at her, which elicits a frown. “Told you I’m good with kids,” I whisper. I doubt she remembers I have young nephews, or that I’ve put Océane to sleep countless times just like this.
A pang of guilt stabs my chest at the thought of my baby sister. But I remind myself that I’m also doing this for her. To gather the courage I need to face her again.
I continue bouncing the infant at the same cadence without saying another word. In front of me, Sophie stays still, her eyes wide and disbelieving, as if she can’t grasp what she’s witnessing.
A few minutes later, Julian is fast asleep in my arms.
“You want him in his crib?” I whisper to Sophie. She blinks several times, momentarily puzzled, but then shakes her head as if clearing her thoughts and nods, her lips pressed into a tight line.
She’s too proud to admit the relief she likely feels that her son has quieted down. But that’s okay. I have no urge to be right.
Just the urge to help her. And do other very R-rated things to her.
Get it together, man.
I turn toward the hallway and head in the direction where I assume Julian’s room is. Unless they completely remodelled the place, there’s only one place it could be: Matthew’s old office, the first room off the hall. Immediately, I see that my hunchwas correct. I let myself into the small room, now tastefully decorated with an outer space theme.
Sophie’s footsteps make the hardwood floor creak behind me. Without looking back, I carefully place Julian in his crib, keeping my maneuvers as slow as I can. One wrong move and this baby will wake right back up.
When I finally manage to untangle myself away without Julian uttering a single sound, both Sophie and I sigh in relief.
I turn to her; she’s closer than I expected, and there’s a small smile on her face. My heart skips a beat. It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen her smile. Even before she caught Matthew in the act, I could already tell her third pregnancy was taking a toll on her.
The smile vanishes as soon as our eyes meet. “Thank you,” she mutters. “I guess you can go now.” She gestures to the nursery’s door. I don’t argue and make my way back to the entrance, where I left my boots. As I bend forward to put them back on, I feel Sophie’s gaze searing into the back of my neck.
I straighten and place my hands on my hips. “Hope you can rest well, Sophie. And … think about my offer. Seriously.”
“Doubt it.” Her arms are crossed as she stares me down. She’s waiting for me to leave. I don’t know if she’s referring to resting well, or to thinking about my offer.
“All I’m saying is, isn’t it nice to get a bit of help? Because I think you deserve support, and not just with the kids, but with your dreams.” I don’t want to give her a chance for a rebuttal, so I leave through the door without looking back.
Now it’s time to let her simmer.
CHAPTER 9
SOPHIE
I’m still seething when Julian’s cries wake me up for his nightly feed, and even when he rouses in the morning. I go through my morning routine on autopilot: feed Julian, make coffee, eat some oatmeal, brush my teeth, straighten the few stragglers of golden hair around my face. Throughout the whole thing, I’ve got only one thing on my mind: William fucking Béchard.
Not only does he happen to be the one guy at Royal Growth Consulting who can help me, but he’s good with kids, too? Now that’s just unfair. Because when he was bouncing Julian against him last night, holding him with so much care and tenderness, it did something to me I’m not proud of.
Sure, I’ve always been able to recognize that Will is objectively attractive. But the moment he made my best friend cry at that bar, I started to find him repulsive. Yet, last night, the sight of him soothing my son made me feel things in my lower belly that I haven’t felt since?—
Ugh. I need to shake this off.
