“You’re adorable when you’re sleepy.” And sassy. I pick her up and carry her into the stall, and she clings to me in that amazing way she does. “I’m going to put you down.” She increases her hold. It’s thrilling. “I can’t wash you without any free hands,” I say over a laugh.

“I want to stay stuck to you.”

Oh God. More of that, please. All of that. Bring it on, I’m ready. I show my appreciation with a gentle peck on her forehead. I can flex. So I maneuver her in my hold, supporting her under the bum with a knee, and reach for the products I need, dropping them to the floor. Then I take us down together until she’s cradled in my lap, curled in snuggly. The water pouring down on us is peaceful, but my head is screaming. It’s relentless, and none of the thoughts welcome.

Tell her.

I can’t, and that makes me hate myself even more.

I grab the soap and start working it over her skin where I can, given her arms are locked around my neck. I have no desire to remove them. None at all. I do the best I can on her hair, working through some shampoo and then some conditioner, and as I’m rubbing her scalp, rinsing it from her hair, my movements falter, my eyes stuck on her dozing form. So unaware. So in the dark. I lean in and kiss her temple, squeezing my eyes closed. “I want to look after you forever,” I murmur, silently begging she lets me do that. Devote myself entirely to her. It’ll make me feel better about deceiving her so terribly. For betraying her. Please forgive me for all of my past sins. Please complete me.

My eyes fly open when I feel her hand loosen from around my neck, sliding over my shoulder to my front and slipping down to my tummy. She’s awake.

“Okay,” she whispers.

My fucking heart cracks for her, but for me, it beats faster. Life.

Okay.

“Come on,” I say, my voice thick. “Let’s get you out.”

She kills me some more when she kisses my chest gently, and I blink back the sting in my eyes. Hopeless. I swallow and drop my gaze, and she smiles, hesitant and unsure. I try my hardest to give her a sincere one in return. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

What’s right amid this pile of wrongness?

Only her. She’s right.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I lie. “Everything is right.” I clench her cheeks, trying again with that smile, absorbing every inch of her. Just to check she’s real. Just to check she’s really here.

I’m only half assured.