Chapter 61
SPENCER
SEVEN YEARS AGO
“Idon’t think she’s getting enough milk,” Harlow says the moment I see her after coming in from a photoshoot. “What if she’s starving to death and I don’t even know it?” She follows me around as I take my shoes off and head for the kitchen so I can warm a plate of leftovers.
“Babe, she just went to the doctor and she’s gaining weight so she’s definitely eating.”
“But how can we be sure?” she asks, parking her butt in one of the kitchen chairs.
I worked all day and then went straight to the photoshoot after.
It’s late, her parents must already be in bed, and here she is pacing when she should be resting if the baby is sleeping.
I’m worried about her, but I’m stretched thin with trying to save up as much money as I can.
Hopefully we can get our own place in the next few months.
“The fact her weight is increasing is how we’re sure.
” I’ve learned to be patient with her over this past month.
Her anxiety has been through the roof. The first week we were home she was fine, but it’s like a switch got flipped and she’s been panicked ever since.
There were many nights I couldn’t get her to sleep at all, because she was convinced if she closed her eyes the baby would stop breathing.
Those are the days I’ve begged her mom to take over with Monroe and let Harlow rest.
“But they’re not weighing her every day,” she rattles on. “What if she was fine at her appointment but suddenly, she’s stopped eating?”
I know, I just fucking know I’m about to get chewed out for my question, but when I pop my plate in the microwave, I turn around to her and say, “Let’s switch to formula. That way you can track how many ounces she’s getting each meal.”
Her mouth pops open, eyes instantly feeling with tears. I feel like a dick, but it needed to be said again.
“You think I can’t feed our daughter? You think I’m starving her, don’t you?”
“Harlow.” I scrub a hand down my face. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”
“Well, it sure sounds like it,” she sasses.
I try not to let my frustration show. I’m not even feeling that way with her, but I’m tired and therefore more irritable than normal.
“I want you to be okay and clearly, you’re struggling. If formula would make it easier for you, that’s what I want, okay? Your mental health means everything to me.”
“But evidence shows breast milk is better for the baby and—”
“I don’t care.” I pull out my plate of food and sit down beside her. “A fed baby is best, and happy mom is best and you’re clearly not happy.”
I hate seeing her like this. I know she loves Monroe. It’s clear our daughter has instantly become her entire world. But I don’t like the paranoia that’s set in. It’s only been a few weeks, and she’s deteriorated a lot.
“You think I’m not happy?”
I close my eyes and blow out a breath. Fuck my choice of words. I know how she’s going to interpret that.
“You think I don’t want to be a mom,” she goes on. “This wasn’t planned, but I love being her mom and—”
“That wasn’t what I was implying at all. I just mean you’re so stressed and running yourself ragged. You have to take care of yourself so you can be the best version for her.”
“This is so hard,” she says with a frown. “I worry about everything.”
“I know.” I place my hand over hers. “But remember, it won’t be like this forever.”
She sighs and wrinkles her nose. “You smell like a perfume shop.”
I groan. “I got handled by so many people today at the shoot that I’m not surprised. They also put a shit ton of product in my hair.” I tip my head in her direction. “Do I smell like a flower?”
She laughs and I’m relieved to hear the sound. I don’t want to fight with her. “Yeah, you do. How was the shoot?” I can tell it pains her to ask me.
She might’ve initially been okay with me checking out the modeling scene but now that I’m getting booked more, she’s not so sure about it.
I can’t say I blame her for being cautious.
It’s a strange world and it’s unusual I’ve been booked so much already, but a casting agent for commercial products saw my digitals and liked my look and has been recommending me left and right.
The pay isn’t great, I’m too new, but it’s extra money so I can’t complain.
“It went well.”
She nods. “That’s good.”
I shovel a bite of food in my mouth. At the same moment the baby starts crying.
Harlow gives a tired sigh and goes to stand, but I grab her wrist and urge her to stay sitting.
“Let me get her,” I offer.
“But your food.” She eyes my plate guiltily.
“Will still be there when I get back.”
“What if it gets cold?”
“Then it’s a good thing we have microwaves.”
Leaving Harlow downstairs, I head up to her room and pluck Monroe out of her basinet. Her face is scrunched up in annoyance and she gives a gummy wail.
“Shh,” I croon, bouncing her in my arm. “You’re okay, sweet girl. Daddy’s here.” I rock back and forth. “You heard Daddy, didn’t you? Hmm? You wanted to say hi. I missed you today.” I brush my lips over her wrinkled forehead. “I love you so much.”
She settles somewhat, so I carry her downstairs. Harlow’s tired eyes meet mine. “Do you think she’s hungry?”
“When did you feed her?”
“An hour ago.”
Shaking my head, I sit down with Monroe cradled in one arm so I can eat with the other. “No. She just wanted her Daddy. Didn’t you, sweet girl?” I croon, making sure to keep her bouncing.
“You’re so good with her,” Harlow muses. “Better than me.”
I gape at her. “That’s not true.”
“She cries so much for me.” Her bottom lip wobbles with the threat of tears.
“That’s only because you’re with her more than I am,” I reason.
“I guess,” she says, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
“Have you talked to your doctor about how you’re feeling?” I probe.
Her spine stiffens. “Do you think something’s wrong with me?”
“No, I just think you should be honest that you’re struggling.”
“And have her think I’m crazy and take my baby from me? I don’t think so.”
I press my lips into a flat line and make a mental note to talk to her mom since she’s the one taking her and the baby to appointments when I can’t.
“I’m just tired,” she reasons. “I wouldn’t be so … paranoid if I was getting a full night of sleep.”
I’m surprised to hear her admit she’s paranoid, but I hate she thinks sleep is the issue. Sure, it’s probably part of it, but I don’t think it’s the whole issue.
“I’ll stay up with the baby tonight.”
She quickly shakes her head. “No, you have work tomorrow.”
“I don’t go in until twelve. I’ll be fine.” Tired, but fine. She frowns and I can tell she wants to take me up on my offer, but she also feels like she shouldn’t. “I promise to make sure she’s breathing the whole night,” I add.
Already Monroe has fallen back asleep in my arms.
I hate that I’m missing out on so much time with her, but I couldn’t afford to take paternity leave. We need as much money as we can get. Our parents can’t help us forever.
“Okay,” she agrees. “But only because I’m exhausted.”
I give her a quick kiss and say, “You’re doing an amazing job, Harlow. Don’t forget that. Monroe is so lucky to have you.”
“Yeah?” She gives me a watery smile. “You think so.”
“I know so.”
I hate that she’s feeling like this, so doubtful of her mothering capabilities, and I can’t help but feel like that’s my fault with her getting pregnant so young.
“I’m going to head up to bed then. I’ll move the basinet to your room.”
“All right. Goodnight.”
She gives me another kiss and pads quietly up the stairs.
Looking down at my sweet, sleeping little girl I can’t help but smile. Things are tough right now, but one thing is for certain, this season of life will pass all too quickly, and I want to remember these little moments as much as I can.