If you keep doing that, I’m not going to let you leave.
Her words play on a loophole in my brain as I scrub at the dishes, doing my best to seem nonchalant.
Meanwhile, I want to smile and beat my fist against my chest at the fact that she likes me. Not in a romantic way, but as a friend who enjoys my company.
It means things are going well between us and gives me hope for a future where Blueberry can have a life where their parents aren’t the kind who can’t be in the same room as one another.
While we’ve been friendly over text, I feel like tonight has bonded us in a way we haven’t before.
“I get it. I’ve lived by myself for so long now that I’ve grown comfortable being alone,” I reply to her as I set the cleaned dishes on the drying rack.
“Well, neither of us will be alone much longer,” she retorts.
“Six more months,” I muse, scratching at my beard. “Is there anything you need help with?”
Teagan’s lips fold together, a hand resting in her hair. “I don’t want to admit defeat, but I’ve had the crib parts scattered on thenursery room floor for days. I even ordered a toolbox and everything, yet no matter how long I stare at the instructions, I can’t get myself to put it together. I don’t want to mess it up and it’s not safe.”
Making my way back into the living room, I say, “Not a problem. Where is it?”
“Are you sure you don’t mind? I was going to ask Ian to do it.”
Ian.
My hands want to tighten into fists at the image of him doing something for my baby that I’m more than capable of taking care of. While I expect he’s going to help Teagan out, I don’t want him doing things that I should be doing for the baby. And building the crib seems like exactly one of those things.
“I know we’re co-parenting, but I want to be a part of everything I can. Even if it’s setting up at the crib at your house, because it’s somethingourbaby will need.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Our pact did state we would be making decisions together,” she says in understanding, then starts to stand. “Come with me. I’ll show you where it is.”
I’m about to tell her we can do it another day since she’s sick and I don’t want to make her move more than she needs to, but she shoots me a lethal glare as if she already knew what I was about to say.
“I feel better. Do not tell me to sit back down or I’m going to lose it,” she sasses, rolling her eyes playfully as she leads the way.
I follow suit into the hallway and enter the first room on the right.
It’s empty, save for the crib pieces sprawled across the floor and the brand-new toolbox.
“I know it’s not much,” she tells me, gesturing at the room.
A look of disappointment washes over her features. The urge to reach for her and erase the sadness on her face is strong, but I remind myself that we agreed to no physical contact unless necessary.
Instead, I opt for a reassuring smile. “We have plenty of time left before Blueberry’s here. I’ll help you with anything you need.”
Her face softens at my words as she crosses her arms.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” She thumbs toward the door, and as much as I want to tell her to stay so we can talk, I know we don’t want to toe the line we’ve created.
So I get to work.
While I consider myself a handyman, putting this crib together has been a mind fuck. There have been countless curses muttered as I disassembled parts that weren’t in the right spot.
But what feels like an hour or so later, it’s finally done.
I stand there, feeling an immense amount of pride as I look at the white crib, built to perfection. Despite it being empty, I mentally picture a baby inside of it, making my chest constrict with love at the image.
There’s nothing I’m more excited for than my baby coming into this world. Knowing my daughter or son and getting to watch as their personality shapes and grows.
Wanting to show Teagan, I make my way back to the living room but pause when I notice her sleeping once again on the couch.
