Redeeming 6: Boys of Tommen #4

AOIFE

SLEEP DEPRIVATION MADE me a weak woman. It was the reason I had sent that dangerous text message in the middle of the night.

Exhaustion had well and truly set in, making it harder not to dwell on the feelings of regret raging inside of me.

It was the reason that Joey was sitting on the edge of my hospital bed at eight o clock on Thursday morning.

Clad in a freshly ironed Tommen uniform, and with our son nestled in the crook of his elbow, he looked more natural at this parenting gig than I could ever dream to be.

“That’s it,” he coaxed, as he fed AJ his bottle.

His bottle.

Another pained sob escaped me.

I couldn’t get him to latch.

I couldn’t do anything right.

Night two with our son had been an even bigger disaster than night one, and I was beginning to think that AJ didn’t like me.

“You’re just tired,” Joey said, setting down the empty bottle and reaching for my hand. “You’ve got this, Molloy.”

‘No, Joe, I really don’t,’ I croaked out, trying my best not to give in to the overwhelming temptation to scream at the top of my lungs. ‘Everyone was right. I can’t do this.’

“Yes, you can,” he corrected, releasing my hand to settle AJ against his shoulder. “I promise you can,” he continued, shifting closer to tuck me under his free arm. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

‘It won’t be.” I shook my head and wiped my nose with the sleeve of my hoodie. ‘I’m a shit mam.” Another sob racked through my chest. “He h-hates me. He n-never c-cries for you. I c-can’t even f-feed him p-properly.”

“Bullshit.” Standing up, I watched as he finished winding our son. ‘You’re not a shit mam.’ Handling our son with as much skill as any of the midwives in the hospital, Joey set him down on the bed and went to work on changing him. “You’re panicking and he can sense it,” he explained gently, giving our baby a fresh nappy before popping his tiny body back into a clean onesie. ‘As soon as you relax, he will too.’ Lifting AJ into his arms, he cradled him for a moment, swaying from side to side, before settling him down in his bassinet and returning to me. “You’re exhausted, Molloy. You’re going through a lot right now, baby, and that little baby adores you, okay?” Sinking down on the bed, he carefully pulled me onto his lap. “And don’t worry about how he’s fed just as long as he’s fed.”

“But Mam said I sh-should be breastfeeding.“

“I don’t give a shit what your mother said,” he countered, tightening his hold on me. “I’m his father, and I’m telling you now that he’s fine. He’s guzzling his bottles. He’s clearly piling on the weight. There’s not a bother on him, Molloy. He’s thriving.”

“I hate being here on my own,” I admitted, burying my face in his new school jumper. “Nighttime is the worst.”

“You know I would’ve stayed with you if I could’ve,” he replied, sounding pained. “But they kick partners out at midnight.”

“Yeah,” I squeezed out, clinging to him. “I know.”

“You’re coming home today,” he coaxed. “And I’ll be over straight after school, okay? I’ll bring a bag and stay at your place.” He pressed a kiss to my head. “I’ll do the night feeds tonight, okay? All I want you to do is breathe and take it handy until I get back. Your mam will be here in an hour. Let her help you.”

Don’t leave me.

Please don’t leave me.

“I don’t want to go,” he said in a pained voice, clearly reading my thoughts. “But if I don’t show up, I’ll be in shit with my doctors —”

“It’s okay,” I quickly interrupted, needing to not have this conversation while I was feeling so on edge. “I’ll see you after school.”

“You will,” he assured me. “And then we’ll talk, okay? I actually have something I want to run by you and your parents.” He leaned in and brushed his lips to mine. “We’ll put a plan together.” He kissed me again. “We’ll make this work, Molloy.”