Page 66 of One More Heartbeat


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“I can carry her,” Athena offers, her words coming out in a rush.

“No, you’re off for the rest of the evening,” I remind her. “Other than to help me get Peony to bed.”

I’ve made progress establishing a regular routine for Peony over the past few days, but I rely on Athena to put her to bed. We’re nowhere near the point where Peony will let me do it.

“Can I carry you, Peony?” I hold out my arms to her.

Peony buries her face into the side of Zara’s breast, which is answer enough.

Athena hands me Peony’s cardigan with tiny daisies embroidered on it that was hanging on the back of the wrought-iron chair. “In case shegets cold.” She chews on the inside of her bottom lip. “Are you sure I can’t come with you? I don’t have to come as the nanny. I could come as a family friend.”

“You’re with Peony pretty much all day. You need a break.”

She rapidly shakes her head. “I honestly don’t need a break. I enjoy spending time with her.”

“Maybe it would be good for Peony to have a break from you for a little bit,” Zara says, not at all unkindly. “It will give her a chance to get to know her father without using you as her security blanket to avoid him.”

From the way Athena’s eyes widen, it’s obvious she heard something different in Zara’s words than I did. But what Zara said makes sense.

Athena’s gaze implores me not to side with Zara, begs me in a thousand different ways to let her join us.

But I won’t be swayed. I trust Athena with Peony—she hasn’t given me a reason not to—but I trust Zara’s instincts more. She might not be a mother, yet, or work with kids, but that doesn’t matter. “Zara’s right. Peony needs to learn she can rely on me and I will never hurt her.”

Just a few more minutes. A few more minutes and I’ll finally know the truth about my role in her creation.

My phone grows heavy in my pocket, the email holding the test results weighing it down.

Athena slowly nods. “Alright. I’ll stay here.” But she still doesn’t seem convinced our going without her is a good idea.

Zara and I walk toward the playground Athena takes Peony to almost daily.

“You sure you’re okay carrying her?” I ask Zara once we’ve walked past several houses. “She’s not too much for your shoulder?”

“She’s featherlight. Aren’t you, Peony?” She bounces Peony in her arms.

Peony grins at her and reaches for the tree charm dangling from the chain around Zara’s neck. She inspects it and says something in toddler talk.

“My grandmother gave it to me,” Zara explains, as if answering a question I missed. Or maybe she understood Peony and it’s only me who can’t understand toddler talk.

Peony releases the charm and points to a ginger cat lounging on a nearby driveway. “Kitty!”

We stop walking. The cat slowly stretches to its paws, as if it has all day, and plods over to us. It curls its chubby body around Zara’s leg.

“See kitty.” Peony points at the cat again.

Zara lowers Peony to the ground. The cat meows and lets me stroke it, greedily soaking up the attention.

Peony crouches next to the cat and clumsily pats it. The cat purrs and rubs against her side.

Peony giggles and has what sounds like an animated conversation with the cat. I have no idea what she’s saying, but her enthusiasm has me grinning.

Peony looks my way, and I pretend for a beat that her bright smile is directed at me. That she’s happy to see me and not just delighted the cat’s super friendly.

I expect her smile to vanish once she realizes I’m the recipient. But it doesn’t. She says something I can’t decipher and goes back to stroking the cat.

Her smile sends a shot of warmth winding through me. “I’ll have to take you to visit Uncle Lucas and Auntie Simone soon. They have a cat named Snowball and a dog named Jasper.”

Peony doesn’t respond. She’s too busy playing with her new friend.