Page 104 of Playing the Game

Words failed him. Everything she said was fair and he had to let her do what she needed to. No matter how much it hurt.

“I understand.”

To his astonishment, Jen crossed the room and handed Olive to him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll be gone for a few days. You said you’d do whatever it took. If you can’t handle it, I’ll come back. I need space to think.”

Olive reached for his stubble.

“Jen—”

“She’s your daughter too.”

Jen kissed the top of Olive’s head and breathed in her smell. As she squeezed Adam’s arm, he felt her trembling.

“Go,” he said quietly. “We will be fine. This will blow over. I promise.”

She nodded and walked out of the door. He stood frozen to the spot until he heard the front door go.

Shit.

He stared down at his daughter.

“I guess it’s you and me for a while.”

This evidently didn’t please Olive as she began to wail. His first instinct was to chase Jen down the drive. Yet, she’d been honest enough to tell him how to help. What kind of man would he be if he didn’t?

“Don’t give me that,” he said, jiggling her. “Be a good girl for Daddy.”

There was a smell coming from Olive that suggested what the problem was.

Okay. I can do this.

In the name of bonding, he’d assisted Jen on a few nappy missions. He’d never led.

They went upstairs to the spare room. Jen had left all the stuff out on the dresser. Gently, he laid Olive on the changing mat. She didn’t let up her bawling.

“Clean bum. Cream bum. Clean nappy,” he repeated like a mantra.

With trembling fingers, Adam took Olive’s clothes off.

“Wait, do I put the cream on first? Is it like bathroom cleaner? What did Jen say?”

The din from Olive was confusing him.

“Daddy will fix you in no time.”

The scene that greeted him when he undid the tabs on her nappy made him heave.

“Oh bloody hell,” he said. “Oh bloody, bloody hell.”

In a flurry, he grabbed his phone out of his pocket and dialled.

“I need help.”

Olive hadn’t let up crying. Adam had tried his best to clean her but he wasn’t sure that he’d done it right. In the end he’d put the cream on first and last. It had made the contents of Olive’s nappy a very strange consistency.