She studies my face for a long moment.
That’s when she finally cries.
It’s not loud.
It’s not dramatic.
Just silent tears slipping down her cheeks as she climbs off the stool and crawls into my lap.
I hold her while the kittens circle our feet and the kitchen grows dark around us.
And for the first time since Finn walked out, I stop pretending.
This wasn’t something noble.
It’s brutal and awful and…
It’s a loss.
The kind I chose with both hands.
Thirty-Seven
Finn
Chrissy’s house is loud.
Not in a bad way.
Just in a newly born to the world sort of way.
Mia isn’t technically a newborn anymore, but that doesn’t mean she’s gotten on board with the whole sleeping-through-the-night thing.
Or the whole letting-her-parents-eat thing.
Which is why I’m carrying this little sweetheart, walking her up and down the hallway, talking with her, showing her the kittens, Joan of Freaking Arc, Athena—all of whom she stares at and reaches for with an adorable baby grin.
Soft voices drift out from the kitchen as I make my way slowly in that direction.
Rome and Chrissy are sitting at the table, Rory and King beside them, along with Hudson—though my favorite Coach is busy with her job.
Fancy that.
“Come and sit down,” Rome says when I wander back in.
“Oh, I’m?—”
But I don’t get a chance to finish that statement before he’s sweeping Mia out of my arms, and King’s shoving a plate in my hands, guiding me over to the table and into his seat.
“Let me see that baby,” he says, stealing Mia from her daddy.
Rome just smiles and shakes his head. “You know,” he says, coming back and sitting beside Chrissy. “Just one of these times I’d like to hold my own baby.”
“You can hold me instead,” Rory quips with a bold grin.
Rome just shakes his head, turning to Chrissy. “Maybe I should holdyou?”
Their eyes connect and they share a look, a smile that’s so beautiful I have to look down at my plate.
