Page 85 of Please Open Me
Me? I hadeverything.
Mason stilled beside me.
“Leave?” she whispered. “Our whole lives are here.”
I kept my eyes on Rosie. Counting every breath like it might be the last.
“I know,” I rasped. “I just… I think I’m homesick?”
Was that even a good excuse?
“And… I still have the house in Portland. It’s renovated. I always thought we’d end up there.”
Mason blinked at me like I’d grown a second head.
“You had a nightmare about your house?”
I let out a sharp breath, almost a laugh—but nothing about it felt funny.
“No, I had a nightmare about—” I paused and scratched my head. “Actually, I can’t remember.”
Rosie stirred, pulled back from me, and glared before slapping me across the face.
“Ouch, no hitting,” I said, only to be smacked again.
Her chubby palm landed with a wet thud. I looked at Mason, hoping for backup, only to find her biting back a laugh.
“I said no hitting,” I tried, more stern this time.
Whap. A third hit.
Then, she bit me right on the chest, alarmingly close to my nipple.
“Hey—ow!”
I jerked back, staring at the tiny gremlin who had just violated my shirt.
Rosie scowled up at me, then smacked me again for good measure.
“That’s enough from you,” Mason said, scooping her up like this was totally normal.
I braced for a lecture. Instead, Mason slid the strap of her dress down, pulled out her breast, and brought Rosie to it. The baby latched instantly, angry grunts melting into blissful suckling like she hadn’t just tried to kill me.
“You interrupted snack time,” Mason explained. “She was nursing when you started screaming. It scared her.”
Rosie patted her mother’s breast gently—nothing like the violence she’d used on me. Then she flung one leg in the air and grabbed her toes while nursing.
God, kids were weird.
Still… I felt bad.
“Sorry, munchkin,” I murmured, placing a hand on her belly.
She responded by kicking me, which was fair.
Mason chuckled, then leaned in to kiss me, soft, sure, and far too forgiving.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.
