“I think we both know you and I weren’t good together,” Ben says, without looking up from Mallory’s face. “I don’t want to make excuses about that. I didn’t treat you right.”
“No, you didn’t,” I agree.
“I don’t want to lose out on the chance of ever being in her life, but I’ve also got a lot of shit to figure out in mine,” Ben says, cutting his eyes up to look at me. “I didn’t drink at all for the time I was visiting Luke.”
“Okay,” I say, frowning. “Can you just talk plainly? Please?”
I snuggle deeper into Miller’s purring chest.
“Luke and Everly made it very clear that I’m to let you know she’ll have a cousin coming soon. They said if you need anything to give them a call. My mom also wants to be able to come and visit her from time to time. I’d like that option too.” Ben shakes his head. “I know I’m in no position to make demands. That’s me asking if that would be all right.”
“So, what you’re saying is, you won’t sign the papers relinquishing your rights, but you also won’t file for joint custody,” Miller says, like he’s trying to surmise what the hell Ben means.
“Yeah, that,” Ben says, rocking Mallory against his chest. “Is that something you’d be open to?”
My eyes fly to Miller’s. He nods. This is basically the second best-case scenario. Maybe it’s actually the ideal compromise and I’m just selfish. I wanted him to sign his rights away because that would’ve made my life easier, but it’s not only about me anymore.
Mallory has an entire side of the family that will want to get to know her. Ben’s mom is a little pushy sometimes, but nothing compared to my mom. Not to mention she’s a very good grandma to her other grandkids.
“I think that sounds good,” I agree.
“Good,” Ben says, smiling tightly. “So you’ll let me sign her birth certificate?”
“She’s biologically yours,” Oliver says, chiming in for the first time. “That’s how it’s supposed to go. But I do hope you realize all the hell you’ve put Mel through these last few months.”
“Shit, I am sorry,” Ben says, staring straight at me. “But I promise that I’m going to do better from here on out.”
“That’s all you need to do,” I reply, moving to try to get comfortable. My entire lower body throbs. “God, I hurt so bad. I think it’s time for my pain medicine.”
Ben grimaces. “I’ll get out of your hair. I’d like to come back and see her tomorrow though.”
“Yeah, of course.” I give him a tight smile.
Honestly, only time will tell if he’s truly going to be a fixture in Mallory’s life, but either way, she’ll be fine.
Chapter Forty-Three
Carver
“Well, you’ve certainly got a pair of lungs on you,” I coo, picking Mallory up out of her bassinet. Her little face is red as she shudders through another fuss. My nose wrinkles as I get a whiff of her rancid smell. “Good God, child. Your bowels could chip the paint off an ocean liner.”
“You are ridiculous,” Oliver says, making his way into the nursery.
“Do you want to take this one?” I offer, rocking from side to side.
We’ve been home from the hospital for three weeks, and Mallory still isn’t sleeping longer than two or three hours at a time.
The pediatrician assured us that it’s completely normal for breastfed babies to eat that often, but it’s been tough on Mel. She’s pumping enough now that we can help with feedings here or there.
Nik hired a lactation consultant after Mel cried for two days straight because she was sure she was failing at feeding the baby. As it turns out, babies often lose a few ounces after birth, and it was no great failure on our omega’s part.
I could have kissed the seventy-year-old woman—platonically and completely respectfully of course—when she recommended pumping. It helped Mel feel more confident that she wasn’t accidentally starving the baby because she’s able to see how much Mallory puts away at any feeding.
I personally think she’s just spoiled rotten and she likes sleep eating. It’s where she nibbles for thirty seconds and then falls asleep again until Mel pulls her off.
“I don’t mind,” Oliver says, stretching his arms out for Mallory. “I know you’ve got a particularly weak stomach.”
I laugh, handing off the rotten child.