My heart pounded at the thought, and I raced from my room and into the living room. The kitchen was empty but when I turned the corner, I saw Devan, sitting on the floor beside Huey’s play mat.

Huey was clean and dressed in a new onesie. He was kicking his legs and gurgling happily, and my panic subsided. It was replaced by some dark sort of jealousy that he was obviously so content with Devan. And that jealousy was directly because I feared I was inadequate. That I wasn’t enough.

Devan looked up from the baby and gave me a soft expression. “Feeling better?”

I smiled tightly. “Yeah. Is Huey okay?” I swallowed hard. “Should I have called an ambulance? What if it was his heart?” Fuck. What if I’d caused him damage by not taking him to the hospital?

Devan stood, walking over to me, but keeping one eye on the baby. “I don’t think it’s his heart. They gave us a list of things to look for when they discovered the heart defect, and he doesn’t have any.”

I knew that, logically. I’d Googled the shit out of it when I found out that Huey had a congenital heart defect. No blue fingernails or lips. His breathing was okay, as was his color. He was drinking fine. But how was I supposed to know what the baseline for a baby even was?

Devan squeezed my forearm. “He’s fine. Happy. Look at him,” he insisted softly, and I did. He was so small and fragile, the sweetest baby I’d ever seen most of the time, except when he was crying in the middle of the night like he’d been possessed by a demon. “It’s probably just colic, but we can go and get him checked out if you’d like.”

I nodded, because I did want that. I wanted to be sure he was okay. He was on my co-pay, though they said it would be another few weeks before the paperwork was finalized. Didn’t matter, though; I’d pay out of pocket if I had to.

Devan’s eyes darted up and down my body, and I cringed. I looked like shit. “Why don’t you have a shower, and I’ll make some lunch?” he suggested, completely reasonably.

I turned away before I did something dumb and cried again. I couldn’t even blame hormones. I was just a mess.

I went into the small bathroom and stood under the showerhead for twenty minutes. I hadn’t had a shower longer than two minutes in almost a week. I scrubbed and shaved everything I possibly could, just in case it was another five days before I got this opportunity again.