Page 139 of Everything But Mine

Daray’s shoulders twitch at the We. “We, huh? For how long?” There’s a hint of sadness in his voice.

“We’ve planned to parent together for a while. The other… We…” I don’t owe him this, but I want him to know. “Since late summer.”

Daray steps forward and sinks into the chair. “Cassie’s left me and the baby.”

My eyes widen. I’ve loved Beckett since he was just cells in my belly. I can’t imagine leaving him. The thought makes bile rise in my throat.

“I know,” he says. “Some mother.” Daray sounds defeated. He reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a folded manila envelope. “This is my official relinquishment of parental rights to Beckett.” I hate the way my son’s name sounds in his mouth. “All you need to do is write down his name so it matches the birth certificate.” He exhales. “There’s an acknowledgment of paternity that Eric can sign here in the hospital. I assume he wants to be on the birth certificate?”

I nod. I wanted this. I asked for it. But I still can’t believe Daray doesn’t want him—his own son. Tears spill for Beckett.

“I’m sorry, Amanda,” he adds. “I just can’t do this with two.”

I swallow hard, steadying myself. After a moment, I nod again and take the envelope.

“You’ll have to make a court appearance to ratify it,” I tell him.

“And I will,” he says. “This doesn’t make him a bad kid. I just can’t keep him.”

A dark, broken laugh slips out of me, making sleeping Beckett blink his eyes open. Daray’s breath hitches. Yeah, we know that.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “We’re going to make sure he never feels that way a single day of his life.”

Daray stands up. “Will you please just tell him he’s Eric’s? It’ll be easier that way.”

My anger lashes out. “You’re asking me to lie to him?”

“It’s not a lie. Eric’s going to raise him anyway.”

“Still,” I say firmly. “When he’s ready, we’ll tell him everything. And if he has questions, we’ll send him your way.”

Daray swallows and nods. “I may not want to talk to him.”

I hold his gaze, my voice calm but cold. “That’s your prerogative.”

He nods again and turns to leave. Just as his hand is on the door, Eric walks back in, carrying a large pizza box. He doesn’t bother knocking. Daray startles. Eric’s expression is defiant.

“Hey,” Daray says awkwardly. “I just dropped off some paperwork for you guys. Will you… Please take good care of him.”

Eric squares up, stretching the couple of inches he has on Daray. “He is my son.”

With that, Daray nods once and steps out of our lives.

It’s been a few days since we came home. Maybe more. Time blurs between naps and diaper changes. It’s been the three of us, with some quick visits to drop off food. Eric’s on leave, soaking up our new normal. We’ve decided on no winter cabin trip for us this year. No point in dragging a month-old baby there.

I’m almost asleep when Beckett cries. Again. This one’s hunger—I know the different sounds now. I shift to sit up, but Eric’s already at my side, gently placing Beckett in my arms. He knows his cries as well as I do.

Eric fluffs the pillows so I can sit up while I unsnap my nursing cami. Beckett launches at my breast, and I wince in pain. Eric spots it immediately and breaks his latch. Next time, it doesn’t hurt. Then we’re quiet. All we can hear is Beckett hungrily swallowing in the dark.

Eric lets his head rest on my shoulder. He’s just as exhausted as I am. Still, he always stays up for as long as it takes to put Beckett back in the sleeper, and boy does he like to eat. I kiss Eric’s temple and feel his smile against my skin.

“You’ve always been the person I couldn’t wait to wake up to.”

“What do you mean?” Eric asks.

“Over the summer, when we were eating gelato, you said you wanted to be the person I couldn’t wait to wake up to,” I reminisce. “Truth is, I can’t think of a time when I didn’t think of talking to you first thing in the morning. Even in Italy,” I add. “You’re already bringing him to me at night for him to nurse.” I smile at Eric. He shifts his head so we are looking at each other. “And you’ve gotten more than a shot with me. You have me. What else do you have up your sleeve?”

Even in the night, I can tell that Eric’s eyes are darkening with emotion. His nose skims my jaw.