“I’m glad you like it,” I say, fighting a yawn.
Lincoln looks at his watch. “It’s getting late. Are you hungry?”
“Starved.”
“Go get in the shower. I’ll get this mess cleaned up, and we’ll order a pizza.”
“I’ll make it fast.”
“Take your time,” he hollers as I walk into the bathroom and strip out of my clothes.
The hot water feels too good on my tired body, and I stand under the pulsating spray until it turns cold. By the time I climb out, get dressed, and comb through my hair, it’s been almost forty-five minutes. When I walk out of the bathroom and back into what will be the baby’s room, I come to a dead stop.
“What are you doing?” I ask, looking around.
In the short time I was gone, Lincoln has taped off the rest of the room and started on the first yellow wall.
“Do you like it?” he asks, turning to me with a giant smile.
For like the thousandth time today, my eyes fill with tears. But this time, I can’t hold them back.
32
Lincoln
“Why are you crying? I thought you loved this color.”
“I do.” Adley sniffs and uses the sleeve of her shirt to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
“Is it the wrong shade? If you don’t like it, just say the word. I can have the entire room repainted by tomorrow.”
“It’s not the shade. I love the shade.”
“Is it the gray? It dried a little dark. I wondered if you’d still like it. I don’t mind changing it.”
“No.” Adley walks across the room and takes my hand, sending an electric current straight to my heart. “It’s not the gray. I love the gray. I love it all. I love that you stayed to help me and that you started on the yellow. But you know you didn’t have to do all of this, right?”
Her tears are falling faster, and my heart breaks inside my chest. I want nothing more than to hold her and comfort her, to calm whatever storm is brewing in her head, but despite our good moments today, I’m still not one-hundred-percent sure that’s what she wants. And her needs will always come before my own.
Reluctantly, I pull my hand from hers and shove them inside my pockets, because I’m not sure where her tears are coming from. For all I know, she’s about to give me a this isn’t going to work talk. But I felt a surge of love today like nothing I’ve ever felt before, so I’m going to try one more time.
“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to,” I tell her. “I want to take care of you. I want to help you. Whatever you need, I want to give you. Whether it’s a fresh coat of paint, a fancy crib from that overpriced furniture store you love, or a double chocolate fudge milkshake in the middle of the night. If it makes you happy, I want to give it to you.”
She nods and blinks, pushing out another wave of tears. “You make me happy. You’re going to be the best father this child could ask for.”
“Adley.” I take a step forward, seconds away from saying screw it and pulling her into my arms. “Please don’t cry, baby. It kills me to see you cry. What do you need? Is there something I can get you? Is it the hormones? Dammit, I knew I should’ve finished reading that pregnancy book.”
Her lips part. “You’re reading a pregnancy book?”
“Of course I am. I need to be prepared for this baby, and I know nothing about children. Like, nothing. I know even less about women’s hormones.”
“It’s not my hormones.”
“Okay, so it’s something else. I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m going to need you to be a little more specific here. Please keep in mind that I’m a guy, and as much as I wish I could, I cannot read your mind.”
She laughs, and I mentally pat myself on the back. Laughing is way better than crying.
“I need you to hug me,” she says. “Can you do that?”