her baby, the child she’d wanted so badly she’d basically sacrificed her marriage to have. She didn’t love him. She wanted to, and Lord knows, she’d tried. Sasha, who knew all about maternity matters, had told her that sometimes it took time, that once he was nursing well, the love would fall into place.
What about women who didn’t nurse, who fed their babies formula from the beginning either because they couldn’t, or didn’t want to, nurse? They still loved their babies and bonded with them. What was wrong with her? Billy was a squalling bundle of noise who was driving her insane. Oh, she took care of him, made sure he was fed and clean—or at least she had before she got so sick—but the horrifying truth was staring her in the face—she was an unnatural mother. What kind of woman didn’t love her own child?
“Here.” She thrust the towel at Darcy, hoping he wouldn’t expect her to take the baby.
“You need to dry off yourself.” He pushed aside the clutter on the couch and sat with the towel spread over his lap. Then he gently extricated the baby from inside his shirt and laid him on the towel.
Emma curled up in a chair by the window and watched, winding a piece of wet hair around and around her finger. This was the first time Darcy had handled Billy. Even though he was awkward, how could he not want to be a father? What chance did her poor baby have with a mother who couldn’t, and a father who wouldn’t, love him?
Darcy had found a clean diaper and was trying to put it on Billy. Not surprisingly, he was doing it wrong. She could count on one hand the number of times he’d changed Holly’s diaper.
“You’ve got it backward.” Emma covered her mouth to hide a smile. There was nothing funny about it except that Darcy looked sweet, his forehead furrowed in concentration, his big hands surprisingly gentle.
Darcy glanced up, flushed and scowling. “Maybe you’d like to do it. Make sure it’s done right.”
“No, no, you’re doing fine.” Her hands went up as if warding off the child. She noticed and dropped them back in her lap where they twisted themselves into knots. “The tabs wrap toward the front, is all.”
He eyed her narrowly for another moment then flipped the diaper around. Then he turned his attention to the clean sleeper. As he tried to stuff a foot inside, Billy snapped awake. He glanced up at Darcy and started crying.
“He’s hungry.” Emma instinctively wrapped her dressing gown tighter around her. She wanted to nurse him but her nipples were sore and bleeding. Every time he latched on, the pain made her tense up and her milk wouldn’t let down.
Darcy abandoned the sleeper and wrapped the towel around the baby. He started to rise. “I’ll bring him to you—”
“No.” Emma shrank away. Seeing the shock in Darcy’s eyes, she quickly made excuses. “I have germs. It wouldn’t be good for Billy.”
“I meant you could hold him while I get a bottle ready.” Darcy’s frown deepened as he studied her.
“Oh. Okay. I could do that.” Emma reached for Billy and laid him across her lap. She felt no desire to comfort him. She wasn’t capable of giving comfort. Once Darcy got the bottle he would probably leave again. What could she do to make him stay? She was afraid for Billy’s sake. But she couldn’t tell Darcy how she felt. He would be so angry. He’d told her having a baby was a mistake. He hadn’t wanted it and now he’d been proven right. He would hate her and resent Billy....
Tears leaked from her eyes and dripped onto her baby. His wriggling had loosened the towel and his bare legs kicked free. Suddenly she realized how cold it was in the apartment. She was shivering herself but that could just be her cold. If only she could go to bed and all this—the baby, the apartment, her solitary life—would go away and she would wake up in her old house, wrapped in Darcy’s arms and Holly sleeping down the hall....
The tears flowed faster. She was so weak. When had she become so weak?
She looked at Darcy and pleaded silently, Please don’t leave me alone with this baby. I might do something terrible. I might not do something and that could also turn out to be terrible. Darcy looked so stern, so angry, as if he was disgusted with her for screwing up