I shake my head. “It’s fine. Vi needed me.”
“I know, but you needed —“
“It’s fine,” I interrupt firmly. “Vi comes first. She was acting kind of off earlier today, so I’m not that surprised she’s sick. Honestly, I never should’ve gone out in the first place.”
“Leo.” Placing her hands on her hips, my aunt glares at me. “You going out tonight did not make her sick, so don’t you dare let yourself feel guilty for this in any way at all.”
Letting out a sigh, but not bothering to deny what she said, I turn away. Instead, I start looking around the room to locate any of Vi’s belongings that I need to take home.
“Leo, look at me.” At the no-nonsense tone in her voice, I reluctantly look over at Aunt Claire. “You’re an amazing father, selfless and giving. You always put Violet first, and she will forever know you love her.”
I open my mouth to interrupt, but she holds up her hand to stop me.
“And you’re a man. Not just a father. If Violet never sees you doing things for yourself, focusing on your own happiness, how will she ever know to value that for herself? Do you want your daughter growing up never knowing that her own happiness is just as important as the happiness of her loved ones?”
Well, shit. When she puts it that way…
“Of course not.” I let my head tip back to the ceiling, close my eyes, and try to breathe out some of the stress, worry, and guilt coursing through me. “Thank you. And thanks for calling me.”
Seeming satisfied with my response, Aunt Claire turns, picking up Violet’s bag that I hadn’t even realized was at her feet, already packed, and hands it to me. “I’ll call you in the morning to check in, but don’t hesitate to text me if you need anything. No matter the time.”
“I will, I promise.” With one last wave, I carry my daughter and her stuff out to the truck. Violet whimpers when I set her in her car seat, shooting an arrow through my heart. There’s truly nothing worse than your kid being sick and feeling almost helpless to do anything.
Still, as I drive the short distance between my aunt’s house and mine, I do my best to remember what she said and not let the guilt overtake me.
It’s hard not to.
Because the reality is, while I was getting it on with Serena, my little girl was suffering without me. She was sick, and I was about to have sex.
When we get home, Violet is, thankfully, asleep. I manage to transfer her from the car seat into her bed without her waking up, a small blessing, probably due to the medicine giving her some relief.
By the time I get into my own bed, it’s midnight. But I can’t sleep. When I close my eyes, I’m bombarded by flashes of memories from earlier with Serena. The smell, taste, and feel of her. Both new and familiar at the same time. The sounds we both made, the love I swear I saw in her eyes.
I had envisioned bringing her tea in bed in the morning, then waking her up with my tongue and fingers. We’d make breakfast together, and maybe head back to bed once again before I’d leave to go back to my daughter.
Instead, my life smacked me in the face and told me to get my priorities straight.
The knock at my door the next morning is an unwelcome interruption. Violet was up at three and again at six this morning. She’s cranky, I’m tired, and even though her fever isn’t as high as it was last night, it’s still higher than I would like it to be. At least right now she’s napping.
I open the door, fully prepared to bark at whoever it is, but Serena’s the last person I expected to see.
“Not a good time, Tippy. I’m sorry about last night, but Vi’s really not feeling great,” I say tiredly. My body aches to pull her into my arms and steal whatever peace I can from her, but I also know that after a night of cuddling a very sick little girl, chances are I probably caught whatever Violet has, and I don’t want to make Serena sick.
“I’m not here for an apology, I’m just here to drop off a few things.” Serena whips out a mask from her back pocket and puts it on. “And no offense, but I’m not gonna kiss you.”
She pushes past me and heads straight to the kitchen. Only then do I realize she’s carrying two grocery bags.
I follow and find her unpacking cartons of juice, Violet’s favourite apple sauce pouches, some fruit juice popsicles, granola bars, my favourite coffee already ground, what looks like soup from Camille’s café, and a box with The Nutty Muffin logo on it.
“I wasn’t sure what you both felt like eating or drinking, so I tried to get a variety of easy stuff. Especially for the little miss. When I was googling ‘fevers in children’ this morning, it said keeping them hydrated was the most important thing. So I figured juice or apple sauce would be our best bet. I also picked up another bottle of fever-reducing medicine in case you were out and some lemon scented bubble bath. The internet said sitting a kid in a warm, but not hot, bath can also help them feel better.”
I take Serena by the shoulders and spin her around to face me. “You researched how to treat a fever?” I say, my voice full of amazement. Serena blushes and stares at the floor until I tip her chin up.
“Well, yeah. When you left last night, I was worried about you both. I want to help, but I really can’t afford to get sick. I don’t have anyone else who can teach my classes. I figured bringing you some supplies would be the least I could do.”
“God, I really want to kiss you right now,” I mutter, tempering the growl with a smile. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
Her blush intensifies. “It’s just some juice and muffins.”