Chapter 44
FORTY-FOUR
DOMHNALL
The familiar scent of Dr. Ezra’s office—leather and old books mixed with something clean and medicinal—hits me as soon as we walk through the door. My chest tightens automatically, muscle memory from sessions where I’d sit in that chair and feel like I was being dissected, layer by careful layer.
But today feels different. Today, Anna’s warm hand is tucked into mine, her wedding ring catching the afternoon light streaming through the tall windows.
Today, our three-month-old son Connor is nestled against my chest in his carrier, his tiny fist curled around my finger like he’s anchoring me to something real and good.
“Domhnall. Anna.” Dr. Ezra rises from behind his desk, that same measured smile I remember. “And this must be Connor.”
“He’s perfect,” Anna says, and there’s such fierce pride in her voice it makes my throat tight. She reaches over to adjust Connor’s tiny knit cap, her movements gentle and sure. “Ten fingers, ten toes, lungs like a set of bagpipes.”
I snort softly. “Gets that from his da, I’m afraid.”
Dr. Ezra chuckles as he settles into his chair, pen and notepad at the ready. “How are you both adjusting to parenthood?”
“Exhausted,” Anna and I say in unison, then share a look that makes my chest warm. Even bone-tired and running on caffeine and stubbornness, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Dark circles under her eyes and spit-up on her shoulder and all.
“But good exhausted,” she adds, her voice soft. “Happy exhausted.”
Connor stirs against my chest, making those little mewling sounds that mean he’s working up to full-volume hunger demands.
Anna immediately reaches for him, and I help transfer him to her arms, watching her face transform as she settles him against her chest. The way she looks at our son—like he’s made of starlight and miracles—still stops my breath.
“He’s beautiful,” Dr. Ezra observes. “He has your eyes, Domhnall.”
“Poor lad,” I mutter, but I’m grinning as I say it. Connor’s eyes are the same steel-blue as mine, but when he looks at Anna, they go soft and wondering in a way that reminds me exactly how I feel about her every damn day.
“Don’t listen to your daddy,” Anna coos to Connor, rubbing gentle circles on his back. “Your eyes are perfect. Everything about you is perfect.”
I watch her with our son, this fierce protective love radiating from every line of her body, and something settles deep in my chest. She’s so present with him, so grounded.
The Anna I fell in love with all those years ago was constantly floating somewhere else, somewhere safer than her own skin.
But this Anna—our Anna—is right here, right now, completely embodied in this moment.
“How has the transition been for both of you?” Dr. Ezra asks, his pen poised. “Individually and as a couple?”
Anna glances at me, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Terrifying. Wonderful. Did I mention terrifying?”
“The first week I had him was rough,” I admit, settling back in my chair. “I kept checking on him every hour to make sure he was still breathing. Kira and Isaak had to literally pry me away from his crib.”
“Says the man who installed three different baby monitors, a breathing monitor under his mattress, and a motion sensor, too,” Anna teases, and there’s such warmth in her voice it makes my heart skip.
“Can’t be too careful,” I mutter, but I’m smiling too. “He’s precious cargo.”
Dr. Ezra makes a note. “Domhnall, you’ve always been protective of the people you love. How does that feel now, being responsible for Connor?”
The question hits something deep and raw in my chest. I look down at my hands, at the wedding ring I still can’t quite believe I get to wear.
“Different,” I say slowly. “Better, somehow. Like...” I search for the words, feeling Anna’s patient attention on me. “Like finally, I get to protect someone who actually wants to be protected. Someone who needs me to be strong without having to... fight me for it.”
Anna’s free hand finds mine, squeezing gently. No judgment, no pressure. Just connection.
“That’s a profound observation,” Dr. Ezra says. “Can you tell me more about that feeling of fighting?”
I rub my thumb over Anna’s knuckles, drawing strength from her touch.
“I spent my whole life trying to take care of people who didn’t want to be taken care of.
My mam. Moira. Even Anna, in the beginning.
” I glance at her, making sure she knows I’m not criticizing.
Her expression is understanding, open. “They all needed help, but they resented me for trying to give it. Made me feel like I was... suffocating them.”
“And Connor?”
A laugh bubbles up from somewhere deep in my chest. “Connor thinks I hang the fucking moon. When he’s fussy and Anna hands him to me, he settles right down. Like he trusts me completely.” I shake my head, still amazed by it. “Never had that before. Someone who just... lets me fucking love them.”
“Language, Daddy,” Anna murmurs, but she’s smiling.
“Sorry, love.” I lean over to press a kiss to Connor’s downy head. “Someone who lets me love them without conditions or complications.”
Dr. Ezra nods thoughtfully. “And how has your relationship with Anna changed since Connor arrived?”
Anna and I exchange another look, this one tinged with heat that makes my blood warm. Even exhausted and covered in baby spit, she can still make my pulse race with just a glance.
“We’re more... united,” Anna says carefully. “Before, sometimes it felt like we were dancing around each other, trying to figure out which version of me Domhnall was talking to. Now we’re just... us. All of us, together.”
“All of you?” Dr. Ezra asks, and I know he’s gently probing about Mads.
Anna’s posture shifts slightly, and when she speaks again, there’s a different quality to her voice—sharper, more direct. “I’m here too, Doc. Not going anywhere this time.”
My heart does that thing it always does when Mads surfaces—equal parts relief and arousal and something that feels like coming home. I reach over to touch Anna’s cheek, and she leans into my palm automatically.
“How does co-consciousness feel now?” Dr. Ezra asks. “Different from before?”
Anna—both of them—consider this. “Less like being in a boxing match for control,” she says, her voice returning to Anna’s gentler cadence. “More like... sharing space. Mads handles the things I can’t, and I handle the things she can’t.”
“Like what?”
“Diaper changes,” Anna says with a grin. “Mads is useless with diapers.”
“I am not useless,” comes the slightly indignant response, and I can hear Mads in the tone even if Anna’s still primary. “I just think someone else should handle the biological waste management.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Fair division of labor, I’d say.”
Connor starts to fuss, and Anna immediately shifts him to her shoulder, patting his back in that instinctive way she’s developed. “Mads is better with the middle-of-the-night feeds. She doesn’t need as much sleep.”
“And Anna’s better with the doctor visits,” I add. “She asks all the right questions.”
Dr. Ezra makes another note. “It sounds like you’ve found a balance that works for your family.”
“We’re working on it,” Anna says. “Some days are harder than others.”
“Can you tell me about those harder days?”
Anna’s expression grows more serious. “Sometimes I get scared,” she admits quietly. “Like this is all too good to be true. Like something’s going to come along and ruin it.”
The confession hits me like a punch to the gut. “Anna...”
“I know it’s not rational,” she says quickly. “But I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I keep thinking maybe I don’t get to be this happy.”
Dr. Ezra leans forward slightly. “Where do you feel that fear in your body?”
Anna closes her eyes, one hand still rubbing Connor’s back. “In my chest. Like there’s a weight sitting right here.” She touches the space between her breasts. “Sometimes it gets so heavy I can’t breathe properly.”
“And when you’re holding Connor? How does that feel different?”
A soft smile crosses her face. “Lighter. Like he anchors me to right now instead of letting me float away to all the bad things that might happen.”
I watch her with our son, the way her breathing evens out when he’s in her arms, and something fierce and protective rises in my chest. “She’s learning to stay present,” I say. “Both of them are.”
“Is that challenging for you, Domhnall? Having Anna more grounded?”
The question surprises me. “Challenging how?”
“Well, you’ve spent years being the strong one, the protector. But now Anna is more capable of protecting herself. How does that feel?”
I consider this, absently reaching over to stroke Connor’s tiny hand where it’s fisted in Anna’s shirt. “Different. Good different. Like...” I struggle for the right words. “Like I finally get to be a partner instead of a caretaker.”
“Can you give me an example?”
Anna grins. “He lets me drive now.”
“Barely,” I mutter, but I’m smiling. “And only because you threatened to walk if I didn’t.”
“I did not threaten to walk. I pointed out that I’m a grown woman perfectly capable of operating a motor vehicle.”
“After you’d been up three nights straight with Connor.”
“Mads was driving those nights,” Anna says with a shrug. “She’s got better reflexes when we’re tired.”
Dr. Ezra looks intrigued. “How do you navigate those transitions? When you need different strengths?”
“Practice,” Anna says simply. “And trust. I trust Mads to take over when I can’t handle something, and she trusts me to come back when it’s safe.”
“And I trust both of them,” I add, meaning it completely. “Took me a while to get there, but... they’re both mine. Both ours,” I correct, glancing at Connor.
“That’s beautiful,” Dr. Ezra says, and there’s genuine warmth in his voice. “How has your physical relationship adapted to these changes?”
Anna’s cheeks flush pink, and I can’t help but grin. Even after all this time, she still gets shy when we talk about sex.