She patted my arm and smiled. “First of all, it’s ‘diffuser.’ Second, the flu is a virus. It’s not caused by wet hair. Do you get the flu every time you don’t dry your hair?”

“No,” I said, feeling a little ridiculous. “You’re so smart. You really should be a doctor or something, Bear.”

She smacked her hand against my chest and laughed. “I’ll take that into consideration. Kids are weird little creatures. They always seem to get sick in the middle of the damn night. It’s like a law or something. She probably picked it up at school. And did you see how she was clinging to you? That means you were comforting and taking care of her just like she needed. You did good, baby.” She stretched up and pressed a quick kiss to my lips.

Holding my stomach, I whispered, “It physically hurts me to see her sick, Blaire. Especially when she cries. My God, it fucking shreds me.”

“I know. She’s always so full of light and energy. It kills me when she gets sick. Now pour the rest of that Sprite into the glass, and let’s see if we can get her to drink a little more. She could get dehydrated if she sweats too much due to the fever.”

We went back upstairs and found Carrie shivering. She drank a little more Sprite and took her medicine before I tucked her under the covers and climbed in behind her to hold her. “You too, Mommy,” she said, and Blaire started to get in bed on Carrie’s other side. “No, you have to put jammies on,” our daughter insisted.

I grinned at Blaire and gestured to my dresser. “Top drawer.”

Blaire grabbed one of my T-shirts and went into the bathroom to change before getting into my bed to face Carrie. “Is that better, sweetie? We’re all cozy together now.”

This is how it should always be. The three of us together.

Carrie’s body seemed to visibly relax. “It’s better,” she said, but after a few seconds, she started to cry again. “I miss my doggy.” Poor baby. She was so sick that everything was making her cry.

Blaire stroked Carrie’s cheek and looked at me over our daughter’s head. “Tank bought her a stuffed puppy when she was born, and she still sleeps with the raggedy little thing.” Kissing Carrie’s forehead, she said, “I’m sorry, sugar. I should have remembered to bring it. Do you want me to run home and grab it?”

She sniffled. “No, I want you and Daddy to stay with me.” Oh, she was breaking my damned heart.