Dad.
It echoes in my chest. My arms instinctively tighten around Aurora.
I glance down at her—chubby cheeks, cooing mouth, eyes sparkling like she knows something I don’t. She wiggles happily, kicking one foot against my side, hard enough to break a rib, and fists my beard like it’s her new favorite toy.
For some reason, it makes me proud.
Dad.
No, it doesn’t feel right yet. Not after everything. Not with how this came to be. But somehow… it doesn’t feel wrong either. Not when she looks at me like this. Not when she settles so easily into my arms.
And fuck, I can see it. Not just surviving this, but being good at it.
Happy, even.
I clear my throat. “I don’t need help,” I murmur, voice thick with emotion. “I know how to change diapers. I’ve got a lot of family younger than me. Not my first rodeo.”
Georgia tilts her head, amused. “You sure? She’s…potent.”
“I’m not afraid of a little shi—” I pause, my eyes going wide. “Crap. I meant crap.”
“Nice save.” She snorts and points between Aurora and me. “You know, she doesn't understand the curse words yet. You’re probably okay to speak freely until she starts talking.”
“She could start talking any day,” I murmur, frowning. “Actually, she could be talking already. Might just not be comfortable enough to do it around me yet.”
“Did you learn that from your sister, too?” Georgia asks, questions in her pretty green gaze.
I nod solemnly. “Gonna need to work on my replacements. Gemma’s kids repeat everything. I said ‘hell’ once and got slapped upside the head by a four-year-old.”
She laughs again, quieter this time. “She really is beautiful. And you’re good with her.”
Her voice dips, like it carries more weight than it should. There’s something in her eyes too—something deep and quiet and maybe a little broken.
But before I can say anything, before I can figure out what I’m supposed to do with that look, Aurora makes a face.
A very clear, very pissed face.
Then she opens her tiny mouth and wails.
I jolt like I’ve been shot. “Shit—uh, fuck—No! Crap—what did I do?!”
Georgia steps forward just as the door swings open again and the nurse bustles in, smiling.
“She’s mad because she’s stewing in her own shit!” I shout over the crying, voice panicked. “I don’t know where the diapers are!”
“Kade!” Georgia chastises, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to admonish me. “Don’t cuss in front of the baby!”
“She’s literally marinating in it!” I hiss back. “I think it’s the perfect time to cuss! And you said she doesn't even know what I’m saying!”
“Sorry to interrupt, but that little one needs a change,” the nurse says, eyes twinkling behind her glasses. “And if you don’t mind an old woman’s opinion, you two are such a cute couple.”
Georgia and I snap in unison. “We’re not a couple.”
I swear her voice goes up a full octave while mine drops to a growl.
She coughs, actually chokes, and presses a hand to her chest, backing away like the thought alone makes her sick.
“I’m sorry,” she rushes out. “I’m one of the social workers assigned to Aurora’s case.”
