Page 4 of Winning You
Or for him at all.
Frankie was not meant for that kind of life.
“I’ll go let the doctor know you’re here. He can prepare you for everything you need to know before you take her home.”
Home. Where shit was about to get really, really complicated. He looked down at her. Her eyes were closed now, and he pressed his nose to the top of her hair. The smell wasn’t magical. It was just kind of sterile, with maybe a hint of the yellow shampoo that Fallon still used for fear of getting stinging soap in his eyes.
But the weight of her was…oh, hell. It wasnice.
He knew that he was going to be giving up sleep, and peace, and any hope of a stable relationship, but in a way, he didn’t care. He couldn’t. This was his lot in life, and he’d embraced his destiny a long, long time ago.
When the front door opened a week after Elodie was released from the hospital, Frankie wanted to put his fist through the wall. He’d just gotten Elodie off to sleep. She’d been restless all day, likely feeling the tension as Eddie moved the last of his stuff out. Frankie had asked him for one moment of peace—one moment of behaving like adults—but Eddie hadn’t given it to him.
Instead, he and a couple of their friends who were definitely going to choose Eddie in the divorce had made sure to slam boxes and doors and cabinets.
They talked loudly and bumped walls, especially when Elodie started to drop off.
Frankie had kept her in his room most of the afternoon, but now she was in her swing, and if Eddie was here to say one more fucking thing to him…
“Hey.” Fenton’s voice was a small whisper as he crept into the living room, Fallon at his heels.
Frankie wanted to cry at the sight of them. They were both weighted down with grocery bags. “What is that?”
“We figured you’d need some stuff and wouldn’t want to run out to get it while you’re settling in,” Fenton murmured. He led Fallon to the kitchen to put everything on the table as Frankie walked over to make sure Elodie wasn’t stirring.
She had to have been exhausted though. She’d spent the last two weeks being poked and prodded by doctors until they were satisfied she could go home with him without any home health requirements. And he’d spent his free time filling out paperwork and standing in front of a judge so he could be awarded guardianship.
Thanks to legal complications, he was the only one who’d been allowed to see her in the hospital, so Fenton and Fallon had been kept out. Meanwhile, Eddie had dropped the ultimatum Frankie knew was coming, and he didn’t rise to the bait.
He just took the key back Eddie threw at him and offered to help him pack.
There would be more time in court after this, though they had no assets, and it wasn’t like he made enough to pay Eddie alimony. It would be a quick and dirty divorce, like the marriage had never happened in the first place.
For some reason, that part hurt worse than splitting up itself. He didn’t want to be a man who could walk away and life would go on like he’d never existed to begin with.
But he knew it was also easier that way.
“I picked out some frozen meals for you,” Fallon said. He was messing with one of his kneading fidget toys as he rocked gently, daring a few glances over at the baby.
“I’d let you hold her, but I don’t want to wake her up. Eddie was such a fucking shit all day, he didn’t let her sleep.”
Fenton rumbled a growl in the back of his throat. “I fucking knew he would be like that. It’s why we didn’t come over earlier. Sorry we couldn’t help.”
“It was fine. Casey and Brad helped him get his shit. I’ve got the divorce docs ready to file on Monday. It’s all good.”
Fenton walked over and sat on the couch closest to Elodie’s swing, watching her carefully. “She doesn’t look like us.”
“Different dads. Her dad’s genetics are probably more dominant than ours,” Fallon said, squishing his fidget toy harder. “Will that bother you?”
Frankie’s brow dipped. “What she looks like? Nah, I don’t give a shit. I just want her to be happy.”
Fallon bit his lip. “She’s blind, right?”
“Uh…something like that.” He still didn’t know all the details, and neither did the doctors. She was too young for them to be able to tell for sure. He was aware there would be a lot of therapy in her future. She also had cerebral palsy, which meant they would also be learning how much she’d be able to walk or talk over the next few years. “We have a while to figure it all out.”
“I can help,” Fallon said. “If you need me. I won’t be scared of babies if it’s her.”
Frankie wanted to hug him, but Fallon was more like a cat—the “I’ll tell you when I’m ready for affection” kind of guy. So Frankie held his arms at his sides.
