Cy looks back down at Cami. “Are we still looking at this the same way?” He reaches over to tuck her sheet more firmly under the mattress.
“What way?”
“We raise her together? As our joint kid?”
“I don’t see why not,” Jack chips in, sipping the dregs of his beer. “It’s what we always planned. If that’s okay with you, mate?” He glances up at me. I nod, rubbing my temples. My head is pounding. I’m pretty sure I’m sweating under my shirt.
Cyrus sighs deeply, studying my face. “Jesus. You look like crap. Take your meds, man.”
“They don’t work.”
“How would you know? You never take them. Take your pills, drink some water, andsleep,for God’s sake. You can freak out in the morning.”
“I’ve got a fuckingdaughter,” I rasp, irritation flashing through me. “I can’t justgo to bed.”
“Sure you can,” Jack says. “You’re no use to her like this. I’ll keep an eye on her.”
I shake my head. I can’t sleep. I have to watch her. Make sure that she’s okay.
Cyrus checks the clock and stands. “Well, this has been an interesting day. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go shake my balls in some girls’ faces.”
“TMI, man,” Jack mutters.
He shrugs, bending to check in on Cami one last time. “Bye, ladybug,” he says, giving her cheek a little stroke. “I’m sorry your dad is such a wanker. He’ll come around eventually.”
She smacks her lips, wriggling a bit in her sleep.
Cy grabs his leather jacket and turns back to me. “Take your goddamn meds,” he says, and slams out of the front door.
Thirteen
Jack
The next morning, I knock on Beth’s door at nine AM exactly, feeling very proud of myself.
It’s been a hectic few hours. I woke up at six to feed Cami, then washed her, dressed her, tried to change her nappy, ended up getting poop everywhere, washed her and dressed heragain,fed her the rest of her bottle, and narrowly avoided getting thrown up on. Then I tried to work out the pushchair that Sebastian bought yesterday. It’s weirdly confusing. There are a bunch of buttons and screws, and the seat is reversible, so I couldn’t work out whether to have it facing towards or away from me.
When I finally got it assembled, I popped Cami inside, then realised I couldn’t fit it through the doors of our tiny lift. I ended up using a baby sling to strap Cami to my chest and pushing the empty pram down the stairs to Beth’s floor.
It may have taken me almost three hours, but I did it. And now Cami is clean, dressed in her very last babygrow, and strapped happily to my chest, kicking her little legs like a frog. I squeeze her foot as I hear the bolt unlock, and Beth opens her door.
Heat rushes to my cheeks when I see her. She’s dressed casually, in a pair of jeans that cling to her hips and a tight pink shirt. Her hair is pushed back into a ponytail. She looks gorgeous.
“Ready to go?” I ask brightly.
She nods, bending to kiss Cami’s head. I try to ignore the fact that her lips are inches away from my chest. “Hey, chameleon,” she murmurs. “You have a good sleep?”
Cami smiles at her, gurgling, and kicks her legs even harder.
Beth glances up at me. Her hair brushes my arm, and I swallow. “She likes this carrier, huh?”
I nod. “I tried putting her in the pushchair, but it was a nightmare getting it into the lift. And I think she likes being held like this.” I glance behind her into her dark room. “Mind if I shove the pram in here and grab it when we get back?”
Beth shakes her head. “We’d better take it with us.”
“I don’t mind carrying her the whole morning.”
“You won’t be saying that when she pukes down your chest.” She steps past me and picks up the pushchair, easily collapsing it and hooking it under her arm. I stare. I didn’t even know it did that.