Donor milk? My brain stops. Donor…like, blood donor? Organ donor? Someone died and they just, what? Saved the milk?
“Oh, uh, no,” I say immediately. “No donor milk. We’re good. Formula’s good.”
She shakes up one of the bottles, totally unfazed. I look down at Emma.
She’s so light I hardly feel her. Her entire body is the size of my forearm. Her cheek is warm against my chest, her little fists tucked under her chin. I shift Emma off my chest and down into my arms, cradling her like a football, and she lets out a soft sound that nearly stops my heart.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” I whisper.
“Okay,” the nurse says gently, handing me the bottle. “Run it along her lips. Don’t push it in. She’ll latch when she’s ready.”
I stare at the bottle for a second, swallowed in my palm. It’s practically a shot. I bring it toward her mouth slowly, overly cautious, and brush the nipple along her lips. She reacts instantly, rooting around like she’s been doing this forever.
“There she goes,” the nurse murmurs, helping me angle it better.
Emma latches. Just…opens her mouth and gets to work. My throat closes up. How does she even know how to do this?
“Perfect,” the nurse says. “She’s doing perfect.”
Her tiny jaw moves slowly. Her hand lifts and rests against her own chest, her nails look like they’re painted on.
I glance at Karissa. Still asleep. Still missing this. Still making me feel guilty.
If she opened her eyes right now, I’d hand Emma over instantly. Because she deserves to do this, not me.
I blink fast when my eyes start burning. The nurse is still here. No way in hell I’m getting caught tearing up.
Chapter 13
Karissa
The first thing I feel is cold. Not surface-level though…deep in my bones. My head feels heavy.
I try to open my eyes, but they’re stuck. My body doesn’t want to move. For a second, I think I’m on the couch, coming out of a deep sleep, but then I remember…
The baby.Emma.
I jolt, or I try to. My breath catches. Something pulls at my side and stomach, tight and sore, and a quiet sound escapes me before I can stop it.
“Karissa?”
That voice. Familiar. Rough, but so sincere and comforting. Cody.
I fight harder this time. My eyelids lift, slowly, like they’ve been glued shut, and the room finally swims into focus.
Everything’s blurry at first. Lights. Soft pink walls, a TV in the corner playing a chocolate bar commercial—the volume barely audible. Then I see him.
Cody is sitting beside my bed, hunched forward, wearing the same shirt I remember him throwing on before we left for the hospital. His hand gently holds onto my wrist and his eyes are locked on mine, like he wasn’t expecting to see them again.
And right beside him, in a clear bassinet on top of a cabinet on wheels…a baby.Mybaby. Emma.
I try to speak, but my throat’s dry and tight. Nothing but air comes out.
Cody’s grip tightens a little on my wrist and he stands. “Hey. Hey, take it easy. It’s okay.”
My lips move. “Is she—?”
“She’s perfect,” he says immediately, not taking his eyes off me. “Healthy. Strong as hell, just like her mom.”
