“She’s using me to bump up her Insta, but I don’t care. I really need a break from all of this.”

All of what? I wanted to ask. I did everything around the house and everything for the baby. Freya spent her days getting massages and laser treatments. Now she needed wine tasting and fine dining? But I bit my tongue and fed Maggie a bottle while Freya packed.

Max announced that he would take his wife to the airport on the mainland. “I’ll get the last ferry back tonight,” he said. “I’ll be home by seven.”

“Fine,” I snapped, unable to keep the hurt out of my voice. I felt abandoned by them both. I felt like the hired help—which technically I was, but not for much longer.

Max didn’t seem to notice. “Does Maggie have everything she needs? Diapers? Formula?”

“She’ll be fine,” I grumbled.

Freya hugged me goodbye at the door, long and tight. “Thanks for taking care of the baby.” She released me and held both my hands in hers. “Honestly, Low, if you weren’t here supporting me and helping me through all this, I’d probably kill myself.”

Max picked up his wife’s suitcase. “Don’t say that.”

She kept her eyes on me. “It’s true. I’d throw myself off a cliff into the ocean. I couldn’t take it. All the hormones and the baby’s crying and neediness. You’ve saved my life, hon. Literally.”

If Max wasn’t hovering, watching us, she would have kissed me again. I could feel the energy between us, the pull of attraction. And my resentment melted away in the face of her tribute. How could I be angry when she was articulating every word I needed to hear? I was essential to her survival. She would die without me.

“Have a good trip,” I said. She gave me a last, quick hug and they left.

• • •

Their absence gave me an opportunity to deliver Maggie’s DNA sample to Jamie. I fetched the car seat from the garage and dropped the tube into the diaper bag. Maggie had yet to be taken on an outing, but I was familiar with the backward-facing safety device. I popped her into the seat, adjusted the straps, and installed her in the backseat of my truck. Then I drove to Hawking Mercantile.

The plastic bucket seat bumped against my shin as I walked into the shop. Jamie was with a customer, but her eyes widened when she saw me. Her gaze flitted to the baby, and I saw her swallow. She hurriedly rang up the woman’s purchase—one of Freya’s bud vases—and expediently wrapped it in natural-colored tissue paper. Jamie’s hands were shaking as she handed the brown paper bag to the customer and watched her leave. As soon as the elderly woman had gone, Jamie rushed over to us.