Page 27 of Trusting You
I catch the genuine admiration in the curve of his lips, his posture straight with pride now that he has his daughter.
Locke looks my way, and I cut to Lily before he catches me staring, and it’s with sadness I look upon her, for every time I see her, I know it’s temporary.
This man who doesn’t know me from any other girl in college gifted me with more days, and I’ll be forever grateful, but it doesn’t change the fact that he can take it away as easily as he grants it. All it would require is two words: Get out.
And I can’t do anything about it.
So be on your best behavior, Paige seems to say in my mind. My daughter is your daughter now.
My ribs crush against unseen pressure, and I wonder if the clutches of despair will ever leave me.
“I have a confession to make,” Locke says, breaking me out of my fugue. “This is your room, too.”
I put my hands on my hips. “I see.”
“I didn’t exactly think I’d be getting a third roommate along with my second. But the futon over there folds out into a double, and we could get a divider, maybe, so Lily doesn’t see you while you sleep…”
“That’s all fine,” I say. “I don’t want to intrude any more than I am. I’m happy to sleep with her. Paige and I switched off with her in our rooms for the first six months, anyway.”
“Oh, yeah?”
I nod. “We gave each other five-hour sleep breaks.” Then I laugh. “Be thankful you get Lily now that she sleeps seven hour stretches at night.”
Locke scratches at his chin. “Right.”
And I feel like an idiot. The last thing I want to do is throw in his face the fact that I had Lily for the first nine months of her life.
But Locke cuts through the awkward tension by saying, “Pureed peas for lunch? Maybe some banana medallions? I know that gets my saliva flowing.”
I can’t help it and crack a smile. “You get on that. I have some phone calls to make.”
And pleas of forgiveness. I’m about to ditch Sophie for at least a week and use up all my holidays at work without notice. Oh, and ask her to ship a bunch of my clothes. Yes, I will owe my roommate big-time.
Locke pauses in the doorway. “Uh…”
“I’ll watch her,” I say. I want to add that I’m used to having her at my feet while I multitask, but I don’t want to further our tension by salting any more wounds.
“Actually, I’d love to have her,” Locke says. “I’ll take some toys with me and put her on the kitchen floor.”
“Of course!” I say, too brightly, then step aside so he can move past me.
I try to school my expression as he tosses her against his chest, pulling goofy faces as he leaves with her. The guy’s almost a natural, and I don’t know what’s more surprising—the transformation of his place or his unexpectedly smooth transition from bachelorhood to fatherhood.
Give it time, I think. It’s only been a few hours. As soon as Lily goes into overtired mode and turns into a demon, he’ll be screaming for help.
I’m calmed by the thought, even smiling, and I pull out my phone to deal with the dreaded tasks of fleeing adult responsibilities.