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CHAPTER

TWELVE

MAX

H olding Caroline to my chest, I pace the living room floor as she screams at full volume.

“Shh,” I murmur, patting her back. “You’re okay, baby girl.”

Of course she woke up the second Delaney slipped off for a bath.

I brought Caroline downstairs, hoping to keep the chaos contained, wanting—needing—Delaney to have a few minutes of peace.

She’s done everything for us these past few weeks.

The least I can do is let her soak in the tub without a crying baby in the background.

I hope she has her headphones in and some calming music playing. Otherwise, she’ll hear this and come running.

Caroline lets out another wail, this one sharper and higher-pitched. For someone so small, she has some insane lung capacity.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, bouncing her in a rhythm I’ve seen Delaney use. It doesn’t work—not even a little. If anything, she’s getting louder.

I press my palm to her forehead, and she feels hot. Is this a fever? Or is she just sweaty from the crying? I can’t tell.

God, I don’t know.

The only thing keeping me from completely unraveling is the knowledge that Delaney will be out soon.

She always knows what to do. She says I overpay her, but I swear—whatever I’m paying, it’s not enough.

I can’t imagine what my life would look like without her.

Probably something like this moment... just constant noise and panic and confusion on a loop.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come. A month ago, I wouldn’t have recognized the man I am now. But then, a moment like this slams into me and reminds me just how far I still have to go.

I love this little girl more than I knew was possible.

But sometimes I hear this quiet voice in the back of my head—one that questions everything.

The one that wonders if I’m enough. What if this isn’t the best life for her?

What if keeping her was selfish? Monique had chosen the most incredible adoptive family, and I took that from her.

Am I really the best choice for her? Because right now, she’s in distress, and I can’t fix it. If her cries were words, I’m afraid they’d be saying exactly that—I’m not enough.

I press my lips to her damp forehead. Her hair’s soaked with sweat. Her cheeks are flushed, her fists tight against my chest. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “I’m trying. I just… I don’t know what you need.”

She’s dry. She won’t take a bottle. Swaying, bouncing, back-patting—it’s all worthless.

I hold her tighter and continue to move back and forth.

Delaney appears like a goddess in a silk pajama set, and just the sight of her calms my internal panic. Her skin is fresh and dewy from the bath, her damp hair twisted into a messy bun on top of her head. I inhale the soft sweetness of her fruity body wash as she approaches, grounding me instantly.

She’s holding a plastic syringe filled with orange liquid.

“What’s that?” I ask, nodding toward it.

“Tylenol,” she says, pressing the back of her hand to Caroline’s forehead. She nods once. “Yeah, she has a fever.” Without hesitation, she squirts the medicine into Caroline’s mouth.

Before I can respond, she’s gone—only for a second—then returns with a folded washcloth in her hand. She takes Caroline from me effortlessly, holding her close while gently pressing the cloth against the side of her head and whispering to her in that soft, soothing voice that always works.

“Shh. Shh.” She sways side to side. Like clockwork, Caroline starts to settle. Her cries taper into soft whimpers.

“What’s that for?” I gesture to the cloth.

“It’s a warm compress to help with the pain. I’m almost positive she has an ear infection. She was tugging on this ear earlier.”

“Is that bad?” I ask, rubbing Caroline’s back.

Delaney shakes her head. “It’s common for babies. Nothing to worry over. I’ll take her to her pediatrician tomorrow, and they’ll probably prescribe antibiotics.”

I exhale, relieved. “Oh, okay.”

She gives me a soft, reassuring smile. “It’ll all be fine, Max. No worries.”

My hand drags over the back of my neck. “She was just so upset.”

Caroline’s quiet now, her breathing growing deeper as Delaney pats her back with expert calm.

“It happens,” she says. “But she’ll be fine. I promise.”

I sink down onto the sofa and let my head fall back with a groan. “Thank God you’re here.”

Delaney joins me, settling beside me with Caroline nestled against her chest. She hands me the now barely warm cloth, and I place it on the end table.

“Honestly, I doubt the meds have kicked in yet. I’m pretty sure all the crying wore her out,” she says. “So, really, I didn’t do much.”

“No, you did.” I swallow thickly as emotion builds in my chest. I glance at her, and all I can think is how incredibly beautiful she looks. I watch her with my daughter every day, and every day, I’m overcome with gratitude that she’s here.

“Can I ask you a serious question?” I ask, eyes drifting to my sleeping daughter.

“Sure.”

“Do you think I’m selfish for keeping her?” The fear that takes hold of me as I anticipate her response is visceral.

“What do you mean?”

“Her mother had adoptive parents lined up. Do you think Caroline would’ve been happier with them? Two mature people who are probably way better parents than I could ever be.”

She nudges my knee with hers. “Max, don’t do that.

You’re Caroline’s dad. Of course she’s better off with you.

She’s lucky to be so loved. There is no perfect family.

Just because the adoptive parents may look better on paper doesn’t mean she’d be better off with them.

All families look different, and that’s okay.

The only thing that matters is that she’s loved. The rest will work itself out.”

“But, like, just now—I was clueless about how to help her.”

She furrows her brows. “So what? You were trying. Parenting isn’t easy, but you learn.

Everyone learns. I guarantee that if she was with the adoptive parents, she wouldn’t have been immune to ear infections.

You have to give yourself some grace. The best parents in the world have crying babies. That’s just reality.”

“Yeah.” I sigh.

She leans her cheek against the back of the couch, her face inches from mine. “I think you’re an amazing dad. And someday, when Caroline’s old enough to understand what’s going on, she’ll love you more than anyone else in this world.”

“You think?”

“Absolutely.”

My hand finds her pajama-clad leg, and I gently squeeze just above her knee. “Thanks, Laney.”

“Anytime.”

It takes all my energy to pull my hand away, but I do. We fall into silence, listening to Caroline’s deep, even breaths as she sleeps. With her content and Delaney by my side, everything feels... right.

No more words are spoken. We just sit there in quiet contemplation.

At some point, we must drift off because when I wake again, Delaney is lying against me, Caroline still sleeping peacefully on her chest.

The room is dark and silent, the soft hum of the night wrapping around us like a blanket. I know I should wake Delaney so she can lay Caroline down, but the warmth of her body pressed into mine is too comforting. Despite the awkward angle, I’ve never felt more content.

I don’t overthink it.

Instead, I let my eyes close again, a small smile tugging at my lips as I drift back to sleep.

All the fear from earlier? Gone.

Right now, all I feel is peace. And joy.