Page 19 of Verdict

And Ava.

Ava holding her. Ava laughing. Ava looking exhausted and radiant and real.

She was everything.

And everything always had a way of slipping through my fingers.

I got back late last night from a series in San Francisco. I’d played like shit and carried it with me all the way home. By morning, I decided I’d swing by to check on Ellie.

At least I told myself it was for Ellie. But I couldn't shake how Ava had ended our last conversation and the way she’d shut down.

I knocked softly.

Footsteps approached, and the door opened to reveal a tired-looking Ava with Ellie strapped snugly to her chest in some kind of fabric wrap. She stepped aside to let me in.

I hadn’t seen the place since she’d moved in a week ago.

It already felt like a home—warm, lived in. The faint smell of baby powder and coffee lingered in the air, sunlight spilling across the hardwood floors from the tall windows. I picked up one of the framed photos on the table. It was the three of us in the hospital, right after Ellie was born. Ava, exhausted but smiling, Ellie, swaddled between us like the tiniest human on the planet. I smiled and set it back down.

“Place looks good,” I said, glancing around the space. The couch was piled with throw pillows and soft blankets. Area rugs softened the hardwood floors. Pictures of her big family hung on the walls, and a stack of burp cloths, wipes, and onesies sat on the coffee table.

“Thanks.” Ava shifted her weight, gently bouncing Ellie, but I caught the slight wince she tried to hide.

“You okay?” I asked. “You look stressed.”

She sighed. “This is probably TMI, but you watched me give birth, so I think we’re past that.” She hesitated. “I think I have a clogged duct.”

I blinked. “A clogged… what?”

She gave me a look. “Duct. One of my breasts isn’t draining properly. It really hurts, and I’m worried it could turn into mastitis.”

“Ma-what?”

She rolled her eyes. “Never mind. I’ve tried everything I can find online, but nothing’s working. I don’t want to switch to formula yet, and I don’t think she’s getting enough. She’s been fussier.”

Her deep blue eyes went glossy, her composure cracking.

“Okay,” I said carefully. “What do we do? Is there a doctor who can help?”

“Well…” She paused, shaking her head like she was arguing with herself. “There is one thing I haven’t tried.”

“Then let’s try it,” I said immediately.

She exhaled. “Some women said their partner helped.”

I nodded, still not getting it. “Okay. How?”

She dropped her gaze. “I need you to… literally suck it out. To unclog it.”

I stared at her, wide-eyed. Trying and likely failing to hide my surprise. “You want me to suck on your tit?”

She nodded once. “You can do it with more force than a baby. It should work.”

Fuck. Me.

I hadn’t had sex in almost a year. And now I was supposed to just… casually put my mouth on her breast?

No big deal. Totally normal. Am I sweating?