Conception (The Wellingtons #4) - Tessa Teevan Page 0,115
I rock, kind of feeling like a voyeur as they all ooh and ahh over outfits and toys and books and noisy shit courtesy of Sam. It’s moronic, feeling like an outsider. These people were my crew last summer. I shouldn’t feel at odds. Then again, I didn’t have a son last summer. It may take time with them, too, but just like with Amelia, I plan on putting in the work.
For all of them.
I let the noise of the room fade away. Gazing down at my son as he sleeps nestled in my arms, as if the place was meant for him, I know that Elton John had it right.
Life is damn wonderful now that my son’s in the world.
Listening to Knox sing Elton John to our son shouldn’t affect me. It shouldn’t be so damn endearing. It shouldn’t make me fall in love all over again.
It kind of does. Not that I actually ever fell out of love with the big jerk.
I want to believe him. It’d be so easy to throw my arms around him, listen to him say those three little words I’ve desperately wanted to hear. I can’t. I can’t risk it. Not for me. Not for Branson. And certainly not for Knox.
How I can trust what he claims to feel? How can he trust it? Two days ago, he didn’t know that Branson existed. Two days ago, I resigned myself to being a single mother. Two days ago, he showed back up, completely turning my world on its axis, as well as finding his own flipped upside-down. I had seven months to get used to the idea of a baby. He’s had no time at all.
In one day, he’s gone from bachelor to dad like it was nothing. He’s thrown himself into fatherhood with an unexpected gusto that threatens to melt my heart. It’s evident on his face. He’s captivated by his son, and love radiates from him every time he takes Branson into his arms.
It’s wreaking havoc on my emotions. And my heart.
I want to push him away. Tell him I can do this all on my own, so he can go back to his big city job, become the hotshot he’s always dreamed of. I don’t. Not for me—for our son. I know how incredible it is to grow up with a loving father, how even more devastating it is to lose one. I won’t do that to my baby, so as long as Knox wants, I’ll let him stick around.
Not to mention he’s barely let me leave my comfy chair in the living room all day. Every time Branson makes a peep, Knox checks on him. He brings him to me for feedings, does all the diaper changes, and even delivers me food, often checking to see if I need my tea or water refilled. I never expected to be this pampered after getting home from the hospital, so I swallow my protests and enjoy it.
I’m pretending to watch some old movie on the television when Knox and Sunny go into the kitchen. While they’re in there, I strain to listen to their quiet conversation. She planned on staying with me for a while after Branson was born, but with Knox here, I have a feeling those plans will change. Not that I mind. She hovered enough in my last two months of pregnancy that I could use a break. And deep down, I want him here, even if I won’t admit it out loud.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, she comes out of the kitchen and takes Branson from my arms, cooing down at him.
“He’s such a beautiful baby, Amelia,” she whispers, trying not wake my little guy. Then she glances back to the kitchen, where Knox is leaning against the doorframe, watching us. She makes some kind of gesture to him, and he nods, turning around and leaving us alone. “Listen, I know I was going to stay here…before Knox showed up. Since he’s clearly not going anywhere, I think three’s a crowd. I’m going back to Joe’s. If you need anything, anything at all, give me a call.”
She gives my arm a squeeze. “For the record, I think it’s great he’s back. Hear him out, Meems. Give him a chance.”
“Sunny Mayfield, you were the one who told me to forget him in the first place.”
She smiles down at Branson. “That was before we found out about this cute little nugget.” Her eyes meet mine. “And that was before