I’m both irritated and impressed, considering he looks like he needs six more hours of sleep and a shower yet still manages to be gorgeous and concerned. “I’m sanitized and changed. He can get his milk right from the source, no bottle necessary.”

“Your mom said it would be better—”

“My mom? When did you talk to her?”

“She called last night. She was worried when you didn’t call her back.”

Kody screams again, louder this time, insistent. I step forward and put a palm on RJ’s chest. Giving him this second chance hasn’t been easy. I haven’t wanted to put my heart on the line, afraid it’ll just end up broken again, but I’m beginning to see just how much RJ wants this. He fielded a call from my mother, and that says a lot, all on its own. “It’s okay. I’m okay, and he needs to be fed—and I need to feed him, because I’m running like a leaky faucet.”

With a little reluctance and a whole lot of wide eyes, he passes Kody over. As soon as Kody’s in my arms he’s bumping around, pecking at me almost like a bird, mouth open and waiting for food. I’m on autopilot, not really thinking about what I’m doing as I shift my robe aside and undo the snap on my nightshirt, which is designed specifically for middle-of-the-night feedings.

Kody roots around almost frantically. “It’s okay. Mommy’s here. Breakfast is on its way.” He latches on, and after a few seconds he coughs, so I tuck my pinkie between his mouth and my nipple, forcing him to let go. Even though I pumped, I’m still way overdue for a feed, so I’m like a fire hose, shooting everywhere.

Unfortunately, RJ seems to be the main target, as I spray him across the shirt. I try to cover up, but all I end up doing is diverting the spray and hitting him in the face. I pull my robe closed, much to Kody’s displeasure. I maneuver around RJ, who’s clearly shocked, and lean over the sink, giving my boob a good squeeze before I attempt feeding Kody again. I wait until he’s latched on and there’s no sign of him choking before I turn around.

“So, that actually happened.” RJ wears an amused grin. “I feel like I can add and cross getting sprayed with breast milk off my bucket list, which is right up there with getting peed on by my son.”

I laugh—and then groan, because my stomach still hurts from all the hurling I did yesterday. “Sorry about that. I’m a bit of a gusher.”

His smile quickly becomes a smirk. “I remember.”

I poke him in the chest. “Our child can hear you.”

He grabs my finger. “The one we made, together.” Lacing our hands, he presses his lips to my knuckle. “You should sit down—you look better, but you’re still pale. Can I get you something? Water, juice, ginger ale, something with electrolytes?”

“I don’t think I have ginger ale or anything with electrolytes in the house, so water would be good, thank you.”

“Kody and I went grocery shopping last night—you have both of those things, so if you want something other than water, let me know.”

“I’ll take electrolytes, please. What flavor do you have?”

“Lemon-lime—that was your favorite kind, right?”

“It still is.”

He sends me off to the living room while he gets me a sports drink and a plate of saltines slathered in butter. I eat them slowly, dropping crumbs all over poor Kody, but he’s so intent on eating he doesn’t notice or care.

RJ makes sure I’m okay with the smell of coffee before he makes himself a cup, then sits on the couch across from me, fidgeting, eyes bouncing from Kody to my face and back down. I think it’s sweet that he’s so concerned. “He’s going to be okay. The worst is over, and I’m on the mend.”

“I believe you. I’m just trying to reconcile my semi and the fact that your boobs aren’t my toys and they’re meant for Kody. It’s a weird thing to try to wrap my head around.”

I laugh again and groan. “Please don’t be funny—my stomach hurts too much for that.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be serious from here on out.” His phone buzzes, and he checks it, thumb typing a message in response.

“Who’s messaging you at six in the morning?” A sudden spike of irrational jealousy hits me. He’s been here almost every night since I introduced him to Kody, and we woke up spooning the other day. Sure, he might be ogling my boob—but he’s a man, and they don’t have boobs, so of course they’re fascinated by them. Just like women are fascinated by the penis and all the interesting things it does.

“Your mom. She and I have been messaging back and forth all night.”

“Oh my God. Did you tell her I was sick?”

RJ looks up from his phone. “Well, yeah, I wasn’t going to lie to her. She wanted me to wake you so she could talk to you, and there was no way in hell I was going to do that, so I told her you were sick.”

“She must have flipped her lid.” I can’t even begin to imagine how she would’ve reacted to him denying her.

“She was concerned about your well-being, like any mother would be.”

His tone tells me more than his words. “So you—what? Told her you’d text her hourly updates?”

“Every couple of hours,” he mutters.

I almost want to laugh. I can just picture my mom bargaining with him for updates. “It’s the middle of the night there—why is she still up? Maybe you should give me the phone. I should call her.”

“She’s packing right now.” RJ makes a weird face, sort of a cringe and an oh shit look.

“Packing? Are they going somewhere?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, well—”

Of course this is the exact moment Kody decides he wants to switch boobs. I set him on my shoulder and pat his back, waiting until he burps before I go ahead and make the switch.

Once he’s latched and I’m sure he’s not doing a keg stand on my boob, I refocus my attention on RJ. “Uh, well, what?”

“I might have invited your parents to come for a visit.”

I scoff and wave that off. “My mother will never get on a plane.”

“She’s planning to, for you.”

“Are you serious?” My high pitch startles Kody, and I shush him, stroking his hair, which helps tone down the anxiety a little.

“I wanted to reassure her that I wasn’t some douchebag looking to screw her daughter over. I figured the best way to do that was to show them exactly how much I care about you and Kody.”

“So you decided to fly them out here?”

“Yes.”

“Where are they going to stay? I don’t even have a spare room or a pullout couch.”

“I can set them up in a hotel if you’d like, or we can make alternate arrangements.”

“Alternate arrangements?”

“I have lots of space in my house. You could all stay there. I can even stay in a hotel if that would make you more comfortable.”

I can’t believe he’s managed to convince my mother to come out here—on a plane. Once again my heart does that fluttery thing, and this time I allow that feeling to spread instead of trying to keep it contained. I can see in his expression and actions that he’s serious about making this work. He wouldn’t have spent the night taking care of us or offered to fly my parents out to visit if he wasn’t. Since he’s come back into my life, our lives, he’s proven time and time again that he sincerely wants both of us. Last night was a true testament to how committed he is. Little by little he’s erasing his lie and earning my trust with everything he does.