Page 7 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

“Thanks. I’m proud of you, too, ya know.”

I scoff. “Not sure there’s much to be proud of, but––”

“I’m serious, Maddie. You’ve got this.”

Do I?I want to ask. But I keep my lips pressed into a thin line.

“You do,” she emphasizes as if she can read my mind. “I’m gonna swing by and snuggle Peanut in a few, okay?”

“Sounds good. Any chance you’d be willing to bring my toothbrush and a change of clothes?”

“You’re not gonna come home?”

“Not when I don’t know where home is anymore.”

“Mads––”

“It’s fine. I’ll see you in a few.”

“Okay,” she murmurs. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

3

Maddie

The next three weeks go by in a blur of attempting to figure out nursing, attempting to understand medical stats, and attempting to prepare myself for Dove’s tour. I’ve been soaking up every moment with my sister, trying not to get too caught up on all the time lost between us where I could’ve been cultivating our relationship instead of damaging it. I can’t go back and change the past, no matter how much I want to.

Instead, I’ve been focusing on the present and becoming a better person, no matter how fruitless I feel like my efforts are sometimes.

I’ve also been soaking up baby snuggles like an addict. Her smell. Her little coos. The way her lower lip sticks out when she’s thinking about crying but hasn’t quite decided yet. All of it.

Milo hasn’t visited, though. Not once. He hasn’t reached out. He hasn’t texted. Hell, I’m not even sure if he has my new number. And I hate how I’ve noticed his absence when I know I should’ve never expected anything different in the first place.

Dove informed me all my things from my apartment are now in the room next to Milo’s, though. It’s the only evidence I have proving I didn’t imagine his visit all those weeks ago. She’s been bringing me freshly washed clothes anytime she’s stopped by the hospital, along with little tidbits of gossip as to what he might be thinking.

Until yesterday when she left to tour Europe.

And even though I’m happy for her, my nerves are officially shot at the realization I have to face Milo alone today. And I have no idea if he’s expecting us, or if he’s changed his mind, or if he even cares.

I feel like I don’t know anything anymore.

I look around the hospital room which has been my home for the past few weeks. The machines are weirdly quiet since Peanut isn’t hooked up to them anymore, but the hustle and bustle in the hall still brings warmth to my chest.

Is it weird how I’m almost going to miss this place?

“Is that everything?” I ask Stephanie, the nurse who’s become my go-to friend and therapist while Peanut’s been in the hospital. With her officially having a clean bill of health, it seems like I’ll have to let Steph go too.

“Yup, it should be everything,” she confirms, scanning the release papers. “And don’t forget to fill out the paperwork for her name change. Baby Girl Walker isn’t exactly a solid choice in the long run.”

“I know.” I glance down at Peanut strapped into her car seat on the hospital floor. With a petite headband and a white bow on her little head, she doesn’t look like my preemie little girl anymore. She looks older somehow. Like she’s ready to get out of here and experience all life has to offer. And I’m…not. How can I raise a baby when I can’t even decide what I should name her?

“And remember,” Steph adds, “if you want to add the father to her birth certificate, you’ll need a notarized consent from him.”

Fat chance of that happening.

“Yes,” I answer her, trying not to get overwhelmed, though it feels impossible. “I’ll remember to do it. Thanks.”

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