The sheets are cool beside me. For a second, the air catches in my throat. I remember falling asleep next to Abby. Warm and soft and pressed against me.
And now she’s gone.
I exhale hard, dragging a hand over my face. Try not to take it personally that she bailed in the middle of the night.
It’s not like I haven’t done it before—slipped out, kept things easy, clean.
But this is different—Abbyis different.
Fuck me,she’s?—
The baby monitor on the nightstand crackles again, and I remember that’s what woke me up in the first place. I grab the monitor off the charger and look at it, blinking a few times to clear my sleep-blurred vision.
“Theo?” I murmur, seeing an empty crib.
Panic spikes fast and hard through my chest. I sit up too quickly, heart kicking behind my ribs as worst case scenarios beat against my brain.
He’s fallen out of his crib.
Someone snatched him while I was sleeping.
He’s hurt.
The monitor slips from my hand and lands facedown on the mattress as I shove the blankets back and swing my legs over the edge. My feet hit cold wood, my body jerking forward on instinct. No thought other than to get to my son. Panic curls hot and sharp in my chest.
I’m flinging open his bedroom door before I even realize it, my body pulling up short at the sight in front of me.
Abby’s curled into the glider like she’s done it a hundred times, my shirt drowning her frame, those ridiculous rolled sweatpants cuffed high around her ankles. One arm wrapped around Theo, the other trailing in slow circles along his back and they rock slowly. His face is buried against her collarbone, and her cheek rests on his hair.
And she’s singing something low, barely more than a whisper, but it slides under my skin like a balm.
The sight lodges something in my throat. Lodges it deep.
I lean against the doorframe, needing the support more than I want to admit. The floor creaks under my weight.
She looks up immediately, eyes catching mine. She lifts a finger to her lips.Shhh.
I nod, too stunned to do anything else. Because I’ve never seen anything so quietly devastating in my life.
And I don’t know how I’ll ever survive losing it. And losing it is inevitable. Nothing good ever stays.
She keeps rocking, even after Theo’s breathing slows, even after the little hand in her hair goes limp. There’s a patience inthe way she holds him, a steadiness I can’t pin to muscle or will. It’s something deeper.
When she finally stands, she carries Theo to his crib and sets him down gently. She tiptoes out of his room, pulling the door closed behind her. She startles a little when she sees me still standing there, leaning against the hallway wall like I forgot how to move.
“I heard him on the monitor,” she whispers, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her voice is hushed, but it sinks into my bloodstream like thunder.
I drag a hand over my face, clearing the emotion from my expression, but not fast enough.
“I would’ve gotten up,” I say. It comes out low, rough. “You should’ve woken me.”
Her gaze lifts to mine. “I wanted to let you sleep.”
God. The way she says it, quiet but steady, like caring for me is a foregone conclusion.
Itwrecksme. Takes me out at the fucking knees.
I step forward before I can talk myself out of it and crowd her back until she’s flush with the wall. I plant both palms next to her head and drop my forehead to hers. My eyes fall closed as I breathe her in. Summertime and soft cherries invade my senses.