Page 1 of Till Cupid Do Us Part

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NIKO

Ivy buriesher face into her pillow and groans. The messy hair falling around her tickles my nose as her grumbled words get eaten by the pillow. I push a chunk of it aside and kiss her cheek before leaning over her body to check the baby monitor.

Our daughter doesn’t give a shit what time it is as she cries loud enough to wake the entire neighbourhood. She’s more than ready to get up, and I’m not going to be the one to say no to her.

From what I’ve learned as a father these last five months, I’m pretty damn sure I’ll never be saying that to her.

“Go back to bed, angel. I’ve got her,” I whisper.

Another string of words muffled by silk.

“She’s an early riser.”

Ivy turns her head and cracks an eye open, flashing me with bright blue. She reaches out a hand and rubs my shoulder in thanks as her lips tip into a sleepy smile.

“I wonder where she got that from.”

“Always been an early riser.”

“I know. You’re the best,” she breathes out.

No. She is.

My girlfriend of over a year and the mother of my one and only daughter has become almost superhuman since Junie was born. I knew she would be a phenomenal mother, but she’s blown every one of my expectations out of the water.

While it wasn’t necessary, she continued to work until the month before Junie was due and then spent that last month waddling around the nursery nesting. She attempted to paint a mural of the ocean behind the crib, but after breaking down into tears and having a full-blown meltdown about how terrible it looked, we hired someone to redo it. Painting wasn’t her thing. The decorating was.

Now that Junie has transitioned from the bassinet in our room to the crib in hers, we can finally take advantage of how amazing of a job Ivy did.

I slip out of bed and mute the baby monitor before stepping into the hall. The nursery is right next to our bedroom, and the moment I open the door, Junie starts blabbering without a care in the world.

She’s on her back, her legs bouncing in the bottom of her sleep sack while she reaches up above her head to try and grab the crib bars.

“Do you know what time it is, June Bug? You’re goin’ to drive your mom to insanity,” I murmur, immediately unzipping her sleep sack and pulling her legs free.

She grins at me and blows a raspberry. The noise machine continues to hum while I scoop her up and bring her to the window.

I learned weeks ago how much she loves staring out at the street. It’s the snow. She’s still too small to play in it, but she really loves the way it looks. Not so much the cold, though. She’s like her mom in that sense.

The road has been plowed recently, and the snowman on the neighbour’s lawn is still standing. Our new house is nestledat the back side of Snowbell Ridge in a newer developed neighbourhood. We got lucky with finding it so quickly after deciding that living in the house where I raised Travis wasn’t going to work.

It was uncomfortable the very first time Ivy came over, but we pushed past it for a few weeks. A month later, we couldn’t take it anymore, and I listed my house. I didn’t blame Ivy for being on edge while having to wander the same halls her ex-boyfriend used to and sit on the same couch. It made me feel the same way.

After everything that happened that Christmas, I haven’t been able to look at a lot of things the way I used to. This house, my bar, my son. Nothing is the same.

I wouldn’t change a damn fucking thing, though. Even if it’s been a very tense thirteen months.

This house popped on the market a few weeks after listing my old house, and I put an offer in on it immediately. We moved in a month later.

It’s the perfect place for us. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a huge yard for the dog she keeps asking me to get. Junie has more than enough room to play and grow, and our family feels at peace here.

There’s a part of me that wishes Travis could play a part in that peace, which grows every day. Having Junie has brought a lot of old feelings to the surface when it comes to my son. The one who can’t stand me.

We’ve spoken a handful of times since the day he walked in on me and Ivy and we all fought in the bar. The progress of our relationship has been slow, though. Ivy’s open to more happening, telling me that she’s supportive of whatever I choose to do with my estranged relationship with my son.

It’s Travis who doesn’t seem to want to do all that much with us, and I don’t blame him for it. I just have to hope that Junie might be able to help convince him one day.

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