“Good job,” he says and turns back out. “If you need anything, just yell.” He yawns again and slowly closes the door behind him, leaving a two-inch crack just in case.
* * *
The first thing I notice when I wake up is the ache in my chest and how bad my incision itches, followed by the deep pain that tells me I’m overdue for medication.
I manage to sit up, wincing, but I push through. When I look at the bassinet, my heart hiccups when I see it’s empty. I blinkhard, trying to remember if Cody had her last or I did. I feel panic, but then I hear it—a faint cry coming from the other side of the bedroom door that’s not cracked anymore, but closed.
When I finally make it up and out of the room, I spot Cody in the kitchen, bare chest still, standing at the oven like it’s just another day. Emma’s tucked against his shoulder, his hand spread across her tiny back like it was made to fit there. Like he’s done this a thousand times. The way he’s holding her like she’s his…my heart grows bigger. So big that I have to blink back sudden tears. Again.
He turns his head, like he senses I’m standing here, a smile softly appearing when he sees me.
“Hey,” he says. “I snuck in and got her so you could sleep.”
“Thank you. You scared me, though.” I sigh.
“I was afraid of that.” He laughs. “I’m making eggs and bacon if you want.”
“Sure. I really need to pump though. My boobs feel like they’re going to explode.”
Redness creeps up the edge of his neck and his Adam’s apple bobs.
“Okay…well…do what you gotta do. This will be ready when you are.”
“Thanks,” I say, grabbing the parts from the drying rack and slowly making my way back to the room.
As I sit here listening to the steady whir of the pump, and Cody moving around in the kitchen just beyond the door, my mind drifts. My ex. Emma. Cody. Me. The thought of Emma never knowing her biological father doesn’t hurt…it’s a relief. Not even a flicker of sadness.
Because Cody just…stepped in. No questions. No hesitation. No arguments about whose idea it was to have a baby. He’s never done this before, yet here he is, like he was made for it.
When I walk back out, the smell of bacon hits me first. Then I see Cody on the one stool, Emma in her bouncy seat…on the counter right beside him. Instant danger sirens in my head.
“Can you put the bouncy seat on the ground? I don’t want her to fall,” I say.
He glances from me to the seat, chews the last bite in his mouth, then nods and stands. He carefully lifts the whole thing and sets it on the floor.
“Yeah, sure. Sorry,” he says, settling back on the stool. “Grab a plate, eat up.”
I put the pumped bottles of milk in the fridge first and then serve up a heaping pile of eggs and five slices of bacon on top with a squirt of ketchup over it all.
Emma starts fussing on my last bite. Cody stops cleaning up breakfast to get her, but I know she wants me. I know she’s due to eat.
“I can change her first or…?” he says.
“I can do it. Thanks.” I stand, carefully, but not slowly enough. The stinging in my stomach takes my breath for a second.
“Careful,” he tells me.
“I know.” I breathe, recovering now that I’m standing.
Cody hands her over carefully, gently. Like she’s made of glass, or gold, or both. When our hands touch, we both pause…sorta.
I don’t think he meant for his fingers to brush against mine like that. I don’t know, maybe he did. It was almost a second too long to be an accident. I look to him, seeing he’s already looking at me.
Something shifts in the air between us, again. The same way it did in the hospital soon after I woke up.
Emma lays against my chest, her crying subsiding. I watch his Adam’s Apple bob. His jaw tics like he’s consideringsomething he knows he shouldn’t. But I want him to…I want him to kiss me.
I tilt my head—just slightly—just enough to say it’s okay.
