Chapter Forty-Four
ADRIAN
Boston
Isobel had withdrawn into herself even more after I’d proposed. And my heart was breaking watching her fall apart. She’d come out of the bathroom afterward, avoiding talking to me by funneling all of her focus into catching up on work. I didn’t want to pressure her, but knowing she thought she was a failure as a mother or that she’d fail at being my wife was gut wrenching.
When Monday rolled around, I’d left her apartment, returning home to swap out my clothes and head to work for a few hours. Every day that week when I came home, she was in the same place. Finley would be propped on her chest, and Isobel would be wearing the same pajamas she’d put on the night before after I’d made her take a shower. It was like she was making it her mission in life to torture herself by only focusing on work or the baby.
For someone who was so committed to making sure happy endings came to life, she was insistent on avoiding her own.
When Thursday morning rolled around, I had a meeting I couldn’t skip at ten, so I was packing my things to drive downtown. Isobel was going to try to come into the office to meet with Sloane at three this afternoon while Finley spent a few hours at the daycare as a trial run.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take her?” I offered, gazing at where Finley sat in her bouncy chair in the middle of the living room. She’d been a little out of sorts and congested the last few days as the rainy weather of spring transitioned into summer. She hadn’t had a bad night, but she was sleepier than usual.
Isobel still hadn’t taken the time to get in the shower, making sure Finley was having a good morning, while neglecting herself. Again.
“It’ll be fine,” she reassured, but the shadows underneath her eyes concerned me. She wouldn’t be able to keep up this pace without sleep, and I often wondered if maybe I needed to cut back on my hours to help more. She would never let me, but I still wanted to.
“I have about fifteen minutes until I have to leave if you want to go shower.”
“What’s the worst that can happen? She cries the entire time I’m in there like she does every other day?” she joked, but I could see through her attempt at humor for what it really was…exhaustion.
“Next time you go in, I’ll get her ready in the morning. You shouldn’t have to give up taking time for yourself to care for her when I can help. We can take turns getting her ready when we’re both headed in.”
“I know,” she sighed, and I decided to drop the argument for now. Kissing both of my ladies on the cheek and crossing my fingers that Isobel wouldn’t continue to disappear every time I left the apartment, I made the trek into the office. I felt like I was losing her and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
After sitting through a ninety-minute meeting—I didn’t pay attention to half of—I sat down at my desk and tried to concentrate on what I needed to get done so I didn’t have to work over the weekend.
“Why didn’t you tell me how adorable your daughter was?” Andrea walked into my office without knocking and sat down on my couch with her tablet in her lap.
“What?”
People had requested to see pictures when I’d returned to work, and the baby announcement had somehow ended up on the shared server, but Isobel had refused to bring her into the office in person.
“She’s got such tiny hands and those big blue eyes. I just want to squeeze her.”
“Why are you suddenly fawning over my daughter?”
Andrea frowned, glancing at the door before she looked back at me. “Because I just saw her in the elevator. Isobel got off on two to drop her off at the daycare when I was headed back from lunch.”
I closed my laptop, picking my phone up from where it’d been lying face down on the desk. “It’s not even noon. She wasn’t supposed to come in until this afternoon.”
“Well, she’s here early then. She said she had a meeting with Sloane.”
Pulling open my messenger app, I opened the thread with Isobel, but there weren’t any new texts.
Adrian: Are you at the office?
Isobel didn’t respond right away, but my eyes widened when I saw what she texted back.
Isobel: Sloane needed me to come in early to talk about some last-minute changes to a project she wants me to help with. I’ll come to find you if I have time later.
Adrian: Is everything okay?
Isobel: I think so, but it’s not something I can work on remotely, so I’m not sure if a slow transition back to the office is going to be possible.
When we’d talked about her returning to work, the plan had been for her to work in the office three days a week for a month, and then slowly ease back into visiting the other branches for a few days at a time. But we’d make it work if that needed to change.
Adrian: Did Finley get settled into the daycare alright?
Isobel: She lost her shit while I was in the shower, but she calmed down on the ride here, otherwise I wouldn’t have left her. I thought about canceling my meeting, but I can’t keep sitting in the apartment listening to her scream all the time.
Adrian: Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve come back home after my meeting if you needed help.
Isobel: You can’t always rescue me. I need to figure out how to balance my job and Fin.
Adrian: But you shouldn’t have to do it alone.
After dropping my phone back to the surface of my desk, I scrubbed my hand over my face. She was going to run herself ragged trying to take everything on by herself.
“Is everything okay?” Andrea asked, nervously perching herself on the edge of the couch.
“Yeah, Isobel’s meeting got moved up,” I said absently, feeling guilty for not being there to help her. If I had known Fin was going to have a rough morning, I would have insisted she let me help her more.
Four hours later, Isobel still hadn’t come to find me, and I was getting worried as the end of the workday approached. It wasn’t like her to completely freeze me out, but I had to trust she would come to me for help if she needed it.
Adrian: Haven’t heard from you all day. Is now a good time?
Isobel: Heading to your office now, I need to talk to you about something. But I’m not sure you’re going to like it.
Pacing behind my desk, I waited for her to arrive, wondering what I wasn’t going to like about what she needed to tell me.
“Hey,” she whispered as she entered my office and closed the door.
“Hey.” Stepping toward her, I pulled her into my chest, sighing when she wrapped her arms around my back. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” she mumbled as she pulled away from me, looking down while nervously wringing her hands in front of her. She looked even more exhausted than she had been when I left this morning, and I just wanted to get Fin and take them both home.
“Can you pick Finley up from the daycare before you leave?”
Frowning, I tried to step toward her to tip her chin up, but she stepped back again. “Is everything okay? Did something happen today?”
She sniffled as she looked away, and I didn’t see any tears, but her expression had me worried.
“There is a dinner meeting with an author tonight, and Sloane said I didn’t need to go, but if I don’t go, then she’ll probably take me off the project, and I don’t want her to feel like I’m not doing my job…”
“Hey.” I grasped her shoulders, pulling her toward me and tucking her into my chest. “Slow down. ”
“There should be plenty of milk in the cooler bag if you want to take her back to your place tonight,” she mumbled into my shirt. “If you don’t want me to go, I won’t, but…”
“Is.” I coaxed her face upward, using my thumb to wipe away a tear at the corner of her eye. “Why wouldn’t I want you to go to a business meeting? If you need to do this, don’t feel guilty asking me to pick up my own child.”
“But this was so last minute, and now I feel like I’m letting everyone down. Sloane shouldn’t have to do my job for me, and if this author doesn’t agree to the proposal, then why is she even keeping me around? This is important to Vivid, and it falls under my job description, and if I screw this up…”
“She’s keeping you around because you’re good at your job. You’ve just barely returned from maternity leave. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”
“And there’s another meeting on Monday in New York. Sloane gave me an out to stay here, but the author she’s meeting has been one of my authors for years, and if I don’t go and she backs out, I’m going to feel like this is all my fault.”
“Breathe,” I coaxed as I rubbed her back. “If you need to go to New York for a day, it will be fine.”
“I’ll be gone overnight,” she whispered, and tears pooled at the corners of her eyes. “I’d feel guilty leaving Fin for the first time for a work trip, and she still doesn’t sleep, and you need to work too, and it wasn’t supposed to be this hard…”
“Is, it’ll all be fine. We’ll figure this out. We knew travel was a part of this job and it’s only one night. You’ll be a few hours away. I’m not worried.” Returning her head to my chest, her body shuddered, and I ran my hand down the back of her head. “Are you coming back to my place tonight?” I asked, hating the way she still wasn’t coming to me for support. It shouldn’t upset her this much to let people help her.
“I don’t know how long this dinner will last.”
“That’s okay. I can handle picking Finley up and getting her settled for the night. Why don’t you spend tonight at your apartment so you can get some sleep after you’re done. Your job is important too. Don’t feel guilty for asking me to help.”
She stiffened in my arms, and I knew she was going to fight me on the suggestion, but her voice cracked when she spoke. “My job is the one thing I’m not supposed to be a failure at, but every day I’m gone I fall further behind.”
“Then let me help you.”
By the time she left my office with a promise to text later, she’d calmed down, but it was clear she was still trying to put on a brave face and do everything alone. Instead of dealing with her depression, she continued pretending to be strong, like I didn’t know she spent half the time crying.
At six o’clock, I took the elevator down to the second floor, making my way to the daycare we’d toured a few months ago. Finley was cleared by her pediatrician to start, but I had worried her first day might be a rough transition.
“I’m here to pick up Finley O’Neill. She’s in the infant room.”
“She was great today, a little fussy after she ate, but calmed right down once we put her in the swing. I’ll go grab her for you.” At least one person in our family seemed to be having a good day.
I felt like I was going through the motions as I gathered her things and headed toward the elevators. Thankfully, she stayed asleep while I clicked her car seat into place in the back seat of my car.
“I guess it’s just the two of us,” I whispered after I started the car, turning the radio on low so I didn’t startle her. “Sorry you’re stuck with Daddy for the night.”
She slept most of the way home, only waking up as I pulled her seat out of the car. It seemed she was just as out of sorts as I was, crying the entire ride in the elevator.
My apartment seemed rather depressing with the stacks of boxes covering a majority of the surfaces, but I was thankful I still had a freezer full of prepackaged meals .
“You hungry, Fin?”
She protested loudly when I pulled her from her car seat, but settled once I had her tucked with her head against my shoulder.
Isobel had filled the little cooler with pre-measured bottles of her milk, and I pulled one out before I tucked the rest of them into the almost barren fridge. I still had an unopened case of premixed formula in the cabinet, so we would be fine overnight.
I went through the motions of slowly heating the bottle with warm water while I bounced her against my chest. Finley finally calmed down as I sat on the couch to feed her. She watched my face as she hungrily sucked down the contents, only stopping when I pulled the empty bottle from her mouth.
Knowing she was notorious for projectile reflux and spitting up, I pulled the diaper bag closer with my foot and grabbed a burp cloth to throw over my shoulder. Rubbing her back and patting gently until she burped, I tried not to worry as the hour grew later and later with no word from her mother.
Using her as a distraction, I tucked Fin into her bouncy seat and talked to her while I heated food for myself. “Daddy kinda sucks at feeding himself when Mommy isn’t around. She’d probably yell at me for eating this and tell me it wasn’t fair that I look like I do and eat crap. But Mommy looks beautiful with spit up in her hair, and I like her new curves. Don’t think she’s going to let me touch them anytime soon, but I can be patient.”
She stared up at me, and I felt like my own kid was sizing me up. “What? Don’t look at me like that. I have self-control.”
She made an adorable little cooing noise and then hiccupped. Poor kid had pretty much religiously gotten hiccups every night since we brought her home. It’d been adorable at first, but it usually meant she was about to lose her shit.
Thankfully, she waited to start crying until I was seated at the table. I unbuckled her and propped her up in my lap, trying to feed myself with one hand. She watched what I was doing with curious bright blue eyes, trying to grab my fork, but I was too quick for her even if it took me twice as long to eat.
I couldn’t blame Isobel for feeling overwhelmed. She was there to help most of the time I was with Fin if I needed it. If I had a hard time with her around, doing it by herself when her only companion was a screaming infant had to be nearly impossible.
We watched TV for a little while after, but when she yawned and her eyes started drifting closed, I took her to my room to get ready for bed. I’d become an old pro at changing diapers and there had been a sleep sack tucked in the diaper bag. The kid almost had more clothing than I did, although my closet was mostly full of suits.
“Alright, little demon, Daddy is flying solo tonight, so I need you to try to sleep. I know I’m not the same as Mommy, but she needs a break right now. I need you to work on this whole crying thing. I know it’s not your fault, but a little sleep would be nice.”
While Isobel had initially scolded me for calling Finley “little demon” during one late night feeding while we were both extremely sleep deprived, the nickname had stuck. She was prone to acid reflux—which her pediatrician thought might be related to the colic—which meant she often spit up after a bottle. But this wasn’t any normal spit up. The girl could have given the actress in The Exorcist a run for her money. We’d tried to switch formulas, and Isobel had adjusted her diet, but nothing seemed to help.
After getting Fin settled in the portable crib next to the bed, I retreated to the living room.
Isobel had been such a constant presence in my life for so long I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. Most of the shows I watched on streaming were ones I’d started with her, and I’d feel like even more of a dick if I watched them without her. Baseball season had started, but we’d been so busy trying to adjust to life with a baby that I hadn’t made time to watch the games, much less go to one.
Turning on ESPN for background noise, I opened my text messages, willing one to appear on the screen from Isobel so I knew she was okay, but it never came.
The dim glow of the television was the only light in the living room when my eyes opened several hours later. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the couch, but I also hadn’t wanted to wake Finley up by going through my normal routine.
Whimpers reached my ears from my cracked open bedroom door, and I arched my back and rolled my neck from side to side while I tried to work out the soreness. I’d slept in some weird positions during all the travel I’d done when I still played ball, but I was also nearly twenty years younger back then. Now, if I slept wrong, I’d permanently injure myself. Might as well slap on a neck brace and admit that I was getting fuckin’ old.
Yawning, I checked my phone, and there still weren’t any notifications from Isobel. Part of me wanted to text her to see how everything went, but it was three in the morning, and if she was finally getting sleep at her place, I didn’t want to disturb her.
A loud wail tore through the air, and I knew my rest for the night was likely over. Finley was hungry. And she was also pissed.
“What’s wrong, sweet girl? Are we ready for a late-night snack? I get hangry sometimes too. Mommy likes to call me a dick and shove a protein bar at me, but I bet you’d rather have a bottle than one of those.”
Her little face was red, her cheeks wet with tears as I pulled her up and tucked her against my shoulder. She screamed while I got her bottle ready to warm and only settled briefly while I changed her diaper .
She didn’t want to stop screaming to eat, but eventually hunger won out and she sucked down the contents of her bottle. I thought she was satisfied, and I might be able to tuck her back into bed so we could get a few more hours of sleep. But, of course, things couldn’t be that easy.
When I got her up to sway her, trying to see if movement would calm her down, she’d puked all over me, the smell of curdled formula mixed with breast milk saturating my clothing. I wasn’t sure how one tiny bottle had multiplied inside her little body, but she covered every piece of clothing I was wearing and herself.
“You know you’re supposed to keep that inside or you’ll get hungry again, right? I promise I won’t complain about the smells that come out of your diapers if you tone down on the projectile spit up. Deal?”
Deciding wiping both of us up would take too long, I made an executive decision. “Mommy probably wouldn’t be happy with me for doing this, because it’d be a fall hazard, but I won’t tell if you don’t.”
I stripped Fin down to her diaper, laying her on a blanket in the middle of the bed while I pulled off my clothing, my nose wrinkling at the smell. It’d only been in her stomach for ten minutes, and it didn’t smell like that before it went in.
Once I was down to my briefs, I picked her up and headed to the bathroom. Trying to shower one handed with a slippery infant was challenging, but we managed to get most of the funk off.
“That’s better. No more stink monster. Should we get dressed and try to eat a little bit so we can go back to sleep?”
She was in a much better mood once I’d redressed her in clean pajamas, gently drying her chaotic hair. She’d gotten a mix of my curls and Isobel’s straight hair. I was glad she was a girl because her cowlicks were wild. Fin was adorable as fuck—and I wasn’t just biased because she was my kid—with giant blue eyes that didn’t quite fit her face, the O’Neill dimples, and her mother’s button nose .
Her curious eyes followed me as I threw on a pair of sweats before I picked her back up.
Deciding it was probably safe to give her half a bottle, I settled into the couch and fed her until she fell asleep, her lips gumming the nipple when she drifted off part way through.
With all the lights off, the apartment was quiet. Her quiet sighs made it impossible to think about putting her back in the crib, so I settled back against the pillows in the corner of the couch with her tucked against my chest. Closing my eyes, I rubbed her back, drifting but not quite asleep until gentle streams of sunlight started to filter in my windows.