I look to Emma in the swing and then down at the counter, feeling the overwhelming sensation of tears build up again.
He touches my back, softly, fingers just grazing like he isn’t sure if it’ll send me over the edge or pull me back from it.
I meet his eyes and there’s nothing but sincerity staring back at me. No pity. No pressure. Just Cody.
“You’re doing a good job, Karissa.” His voice is low, almost whispering, and I break.
He’s out of his seat before I can even catch my breath. His arms are wrapped around my head, drowning me in more of that cologne that smells way too good.
“Nobody should have to do what you’re doing alone. Remember that,” he says.
I nod. My voice barely audible, I manage a “yeah.”
When he lets go, I’m quick to move along to the bathroom and shower, afraid if I stay where I’m at any longer I’ll confess something I shouldn’t…or kiss him.
When I come out, Emma’s awake and Cody’s holding her close. Her little hand is curled around his thumb while he talks to her in a low, hushed voice, as if she’s going to respond.
“She likes you,” I say softly, then slowly sit on the chair beside the couch.
“She better. I’ve been putting in the hours,” he jokes.
“You really have.”
He shifts her gently. “I can put her down if you want. She was just fussy and—”
“No. It’s fine. You don’t have to rush out.”
His shoulders relax and he continues to watch her.
In this moment, I can’t imagine a life without Cody in it. And a thought hits me—that someday, once I figure out where I’m going, Emma might never know the man who held her for the first few hours of her life while her mom was unconscious. The man who made sure I was okay before he even thought abouthimself. The man who wiped away my tears and told me it would be okay on more than one occasion. The man who showed up when he didn’t have to…and stayed when it would’ve been easier to walk away.
“Alright, well,” Cody says, snapping me from my thoughts, “I should head out, though.”
I nod. “Thanks for coming over.”
He stands, his eyes lingering on Emma as he hands her to me carefully, like he doesn’t want to let her go yet.
“You call if you need anything else,” he says, his voice a little lower now. “Or…to talk. I’m just working up at Addison’s.”
Our fingers brush when I take Emma, and for a split second, neither of us moves. His gaze lifts to mine, steady, unreadable, but it’s there, that shift in the air again.
“I will,” I murmur.
He gives a small nod and turns for the door.
* * *
Cody asked if I wanted to go to church this morning but I said no. He didn’t argue, didn’t ask why, just said okay and left it at that.
I only said no because I’ve been sorta struggling trying to figure out this solo parenting thing. It’s a lot for me and I feel myself shutting down, and sometimes I swear it feels like the walls of this place are closing in on me.
This morning I pumped, washed the bottles and pump parts, tossed a load of laundry in, folded one from yesterday, and sat down to read my Bible. This time in Matthew, right where Cody left off with me yesterday.
I’m still going to the big house for lunch today. I’m excited to see everyone; it’s been nearly a week. Other than Maureendropping off another casserole and Ella bringing over a bag of baby clothes Cora outgrew, I haven’t seen anyone.
The front door creaks open. Cody steps in slowly, scanning the room and offering a soft smile at me. He looks good, as usual. A little too good, actually. His button-down shirt is tucked in neatly, sleeves rolled just enough to show the tattoos on his forearms. There’s something about the way he carries himself—confident, steady. I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that, I know. But it’s there and it’s hard to ignore.
“Ready?” he asks, just as I lay Emma in her car seat on the kitchen counter.
