"Hey."
I startled awake, my right leg coming down to the floor and my back straightening, propelling me forward before I could stop myself.
"Woah," the same voice said, a laugh in the sound. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."
Cillian. His blue eyes were almost too bright given the fact that mine were just closed.
Given the fact that I had been fully and completely asleep sitting up.
"S'fine," I mumbled, uncrossing my arms and tuning into the sounds of a film set once more. The chatter of voices, the thumping of equipment, laughter echoing in the great expanse of the studio.
Cillian dragged a chair over beside me and sat as he said, "You've got the right idea. A cat nap between takes."
I could tell he was taking the piss, and when I glanced at him sideways, his smirk confirmed it. But I didn't have the energy or the mental capacity to joke back. Instead I sat forward and hung my head in my hands, closed my tired eyes and pressed the heels of my palms into the sockets until tiny pinpricks of blue light flooded my vision.
"You alright?" Cillian asked next.
Someone walked right by us. I felt the breeze of the movement as they passed. I lifted my head and glanced over to see the back of a tech guy walking way from us towards the center of all the action.
"Just tired," I said, glancing around to try and piece together how much I'd missed—how long I'd been asleep.
"I gathered that," Cillian said in his quiet way, more amusement coloring the words. There were a few moments of silence between us before he asked, "Baby still keeping you up at night?"
"Yeah. It's not as bad as before, but she still wakes up hungry."
"How old is she now?"
"About ten weeks."
Cillian chuckled and sat forward too, his elbows propped on his knees just like mine. "I miss those days." He glanced at me. "But I don't miss the exhaustion."
I should've said that it was pretty pathetic of me to be so tired. I wasn't really the one getting up at night. I heard Lila—there's no way you could sleep through her screaming—but it was Mads who got up and went to her. Because only Mads could give her what she needed.
And Mads didn't complain. She always hushed Lila as quickly as possible so that I could keep sleeping. But we were both up again at five a.m. anyway—me, because I felt bad to leave Mads alone to tend to the baby while I was around and capable, and Mads because she couldn't sleep in once Lila was awake.
But the days were so much longer, too. Lila had been sleeping more at night (waking for feedings, of course) and less during the day, so Mads had really had her hands full this last week or so. And the film had also been a constant energy-zap. The physical demands were starting to take their toll.
And it was only week four.
Three more months to go.
"At least you have a few days off now, right?" Cillian asked next. "I think we all need to regroup."
I'd been looking forward to this particular break since the start. It was nothing more than a long weekend—we had off this coming Monday—but it felt like we'd been working on the film far longer than a month, and we were all ready for some time away from each other.
Or at least I was.
But Cillian's reminder only served to bring about an alarmed zing in my stomach, followed by a dull, quiet sadness flooding in afterwards. Tension pulled at my shoulders, my lips, my forehead as I thought about this morning. As I remembered our fight.
"Ow, ow, damn it!" Mads had screeched after a quiet thump sounded from the bathroom followed by the sound of the laundry basket hitting the floor with a smack.
It was wrong what I'd felt in that moment. If it hadn't been five-thirty in the morning, if I'd had a night of uninterrupted sleep for once, if I wasn't so fucking tired, I would've immediately been worried. Concerned by the sound that was so clearly pained.
Instead, for that first second, all I'd felt was nonsensical annoyance that she'd hurt herself.
Just as quickly as it had come on, though, the annoyance disappeared and made way for the concern, for the fear as I'd glanced over, and alarm filled me as Lila began to wail in my arms—also startled by the sound. "What is it? What happened?"
Mads was leaning against the doorframe leading into the bathroom, one leg hiked up so that she could clutch her toes. Her brow was wrinkled up in pain.
"Shit," she breathed as I stood. And when I made my way over to her, ready to ask what had happened again, even though in some part of my mind, I'd already grasped that she'd likely stubbed her toe, she looked up.
There were tears in her eyes.
"It's nothing," she said, the words clipped, her voice tight with—anger. "I'm fine."
She leaned down and grabbed the laundry basket, and hobbled a few steps, pushing past me as she said, "And for God's sake, make sure everything makes it into the laundry basket next time, would you? It shouldn't be that hard."
Her annoyance washed over me in waves, making realization come more slowly than it should've. But when it did, I couldn't believe it. She was mad at me?
"What didn't I put in the basket?" I asked, rocking a squirming, still-crying Lila as best I could as I recalled last night—undressing in the bathroom, tossing my dirty clothes into the basket before stepping into the shower...
Mads was almost to the door, still hobbling, and she didn't turn around as she replied, "If I have to pick up one more of your stupid socks because you can't manage to get them both into the laundry basket, I'm gonna scream."
Shocked. That was the only word for what I was feeling. The vitriol...
But "shocked had quickly turned into defensive".
And she'd disappeared into the hallway before I could reply.
So, I followed her.
"I apologize if I'm exhausted when I get home and miss a fucking sock here or there," I exclaimed, growing more frustrated, more annoyed by the moment. Lila's screams weren't helping.
I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, that patience was necessary here. I knew that I should've been more understanding. I knew that I should've tried to placate my wife instead of provoking her further. But for whatever reason, I was seeing red, and the last thing I wanted to do was let her talk to me like I was some deadbeat husband who couldn't even manage to pick up after himself.
It was only a fucking sock, after all.
But I wasn't the only one looking for a fight. Mads glared at me from the top of the stairs. "How hard is it to just look down at the floor after you take your clothes off, hm?"
"I can barely keep my eyes open when I get home, Mads! We're lucky I even get as far as to change!"
"And I'm not tired?" she fired back, her voice high and squeaky and angry all at once. "It's not absolutely exhausting to take care of her and have to pick up after you, too?"
Her voice broke in the midst of those questions, and her whole face had scrunched up with tears.
But the sight didn't sober me as it might normally have. Because something was prodding me to keep fighting, to keep defending myself. Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was that I didn't want to go to work today. Maybe it was the fact that my wife was standing there, seething in front of me, and it was the first spark I'd seen in her eyes in days.
And I didn't know why that was or if it was anything to worry about or if it was just that we hadn't spent enough time together these last several weeks, but maybe I wanted to keep it there.
So, I scoffed and said, "It was a sock, Mads. I'm sorry you stubbed your toe, but come on, this is ridiculous."
Madelyn's lip quivered for only a moment before she clamped them both together and with one last, lingering glare at me, stormed down the stairs.
And abruptly, I didn't feel at all good about the way I'd acted. But I also felt weirdly justified in the way I'd defended myself.
I'd glanced down at Lila then, and she had already started calming since we'd stopped shouting, but once things had well and truly fallen silent in the hallway, once her eyes were on mine, she quieted completely and stared.
"Was I wrong?" I'd asked, rocking her a bit.
Lila hadn't answered. Only stared up at me with wet eyes.
And it hadn't made me feel better about the situation.
"Alright folks," Chris announced, his voice cutting through my thoughts and the tension those thoughts had inflicted on my body. I felt it begin to relax as I realized my surroundings once more. "Let's get on with it."
Cillian was still beside me, and he looked from where Chris was standing amidst the crew, his focus once again fixed on a monitor, back to me. He clapped me on the shoulder. "C'mon," he said. "We're almost there now."
It was when I was standing that I could feel it—how bone tired I was. My muscles still ached from yesterday, and my mind was fuzzy with exhaustion, but I followed Cillian over to stand in front of the cameras.
At least I wasn't strapped into any harnesses or dangling from a cable today. At least I wouldn't be running back and forth, again and again. At least we wouldn't be filming any fight scenes.
Today was all about a scene where the characters sit and talk, discussing strategy, and I was wearing a suit. Not the most comfortable thing I could be wearing, but better than a harness and cables. Still, I was a bit nervous because I'd reached the level of exhaustion where simply sitting down communicated to my body that it was time to sleep, and I needed to remain sharp for this scene.
I felt someone walk up beside me as Chris directed Cillian about where to stand, when to sit, and so on. And when I turned to glance at Vanessa, she smiled.
"How you doing?" she asked, and though she kept her voice low so as not to disturb Chris, her voice was still too chipper, her smile too bright for the way I was feeling.
A laugh came out of me that sounded more like a scoff. "Swell."
I felt her looking at me sideways for a moment before she nudged me with her elbow. "What kind of attitude is that? We're about to film one of my favorite scenes yet."
"Your favorite," I muttered, keeping my eyes glued to Chris and Cillian even though I wasn't registering any of what was going on. "Not mine."
I must've taken her aback with that statement, and in truth, I didn't really know why I'd said it. I didn't mean it. It sounded ungrateful. And I immediately felt guilty for it.
"Oh-kay then," Vanessa said, crossing her arms and fixing her attention on Chris, too.
I rolled my eyes at myself and leaned over to her. "I'm sorry," I murmured, wondering why it was so much easier to say it to her than it was to say it to my wife this morning. Wondering how I could've actually left the house without saying it and meaning it. "It's just been a rough couple of days."
Vanessa fixed me with a stare then that was all amusement. "Fatherhood starting to wear you down?"
I considered that statement, the tone of it, and felt myself smile a little—the first one all day. "Only someone who isn't a parent could find that amusing."
She giggled a little. "You're right. Sorry, that was probably a little insensitive."
I looked at her. She was smiling, looking like she didn't care if it was or it wasn't.
And for whatever reason, I smiled back. "Just a bit."
"Harry," Chris called and immediately, I snapped to attention. He held his hand out toward me and didn't move closer, expecting me to come over to him. "I want you to start over here."
I fumbled my lines more than anyone else, my traitorous thoughts returning again and again to Mads and what we'd said to each other this morning.
And I hadn't felt well all day because of it, but the little bit of bravado I'd been feeling for sticking up for myself had vanished over the course of the day, making way for nothing but guilt and sorrow.
I shouldn't have spoken to her that way. And I shouldn't have let the silence stretch on between us afterwards, when she'd started the laundry and taken Lila from me so that I could get ready. I shouldn't have let my pride swell to the point where I'd felt completely justified in what I'd said and in leaving the house without apologizing, nothing more than a half-hearted goodbye tossed over my shoulder.
It was stupid and immature, and it had achieved absolutely nothing.
And I missed her. More and more as the day wore on. I missed the kiss I should've taken with me as I left for the day. I missed the assurance of her love for me as she wished me a good day and told me she loved me. I missed the smile she gave me when I said it back.
And it was probably wrong, but there was also a part of me that missed her the way she was before Lila came along. I missed the way her energy had always seemed boundless. The way she'd smiled so freely. The way, even when she was tired, she could cheer me up.
In that way, it felt much longer than a few weeks of strain. The ease that had always been between us from the moment we'd met had slowly but surely become a tension that neither of us could seem to shake. We weren't seeing each other nearly enough—our days were jam-packed in different ways. So, when we were together, all we really wanted to do was sleep.
And it was becoming clearer and clearer that it wasn't working for us. Which was starting to scare me because it was bringing me back to those days before we found out Mads was pregnant with Lila.
And I didn't know what to do.
Other than get home and apologize. Make it right.
I felt like I was rushing through the rest of the day whilst everyone else was taking their time. Each time Chris asked us to run through it again, my body tensed a little more. Each time Cillian or Vanessa or someone else messed up their lines, each time they goofed around and laughed at themselves or at each other, I got a little more annoyed. Because it was only drawing out the anticipation, only drawing out the process, and couldn't they all see how badly I needed to get out of here?
I practically flew to my dressing room when we were finally finished a full hour later than we were supposed to be—surly to be running so late and breathless with the hope of making up with Mads for this morning.
That's when someone knocked on my door.
I whipped around to find Vanessa standing there, her hand outstretched. "You forgot your phone."
For a second I didn't believe her—even as I stared at the familiar black case and the light catching the small crack in the screen protector.
"Thanks," I said, wondering how I could've forgotten it out there.
Probably because I was toying with the idea of texting Mads for hours. I'd decided against it only because I was sure it would mean more in person. That I could communicate it better in person.
"No problem," Vanessa said. And she lingered by the door a moment too long, watching as I threw a sweatshirt on over my head.
When I poked my head out of it and yanked it down, I tried not to sound too annoyed as I asked, "Did you need something?"
Vanessa smiled easily. "Sorry, I, uh... no. I'll see you next week."
She backed away from the door, and I was grateful she wasn't going to hold me up any longer than I already had been.
"Have a good weekend," she called over her shoulder.
"You too," I said half-heartedly just before she disappeared from sight completely.
And I glanced around the room, making sure I had all my things before slipping out and sneaking away to my car.
I hadn't felt this excited, this expectant in a while—too long. I couldn't figure out when was the last time, in fact. Possibly before I started working on the film. Or maybe since that first week, when everything still felt new.
But I was a month in now, and it didn't feel right that things were already starting to drag. That I wasn't feeling excited anymore. Hopefully this long weekend would be just what I needed to get it back.
Hopefully it would be just what we all needed to rekindle the flame.
Mads and I hadn't had sex since last weekend. Five days ago. Not that I was counting.
Maybe that was normal for most couples once they'd had a baby, but it didn't feel normal for us. Because up until Lila was born, we were having sex a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. Multiple times a day if it was possible. And even when we did have sex now, it was rushed. Without much feeling or care or diligence. If it was obvious to me, then I'm sure it was obvious to her that we were both in a hurry to get it over with so that we could get to sleep. But we did it because we needed to. Because our bodies wanted the other. Because despite our exhaustion, we always found each other in sex—and these days we were missing each other more than was usual.
And I didn't want to think the lack of sex was an issue, because we truly were both knackered by the end of our long days. But it made me miss her even more. Right now especially, after what had happened between us this morning, the missing her hurt. Like an ache, like a gaping hole in my chest, and I stepped a little harder on the gas pedal.
But this wasn't about sex. She had to know how sorry I was. She had to know that I didn't mean it. She had to know that I regretted walking out that door without apologizing right then and there—that I regretted not kissing her, not telling her that I loved her.
I never would've done that while we were dating. I never would've done it when we were first married. I never would've done it before I started working on this film, or when Lila came along, during those first six weeks of bliss, just the three of us together.
She had to know how tired I was. But she also had to know that my exhaustion was no excuse—that I should've apologized anyway. That I should've told her I loved her anyway.
I was practically panting when I opened the front door, hoping she'd be right there so that I wouldn't have to wait another moment after all the time wasted today. But she wasn't, and I heard music coming from the back room. Music and a voice.
Her voice.
It smelled good as I walked down the hallway, and when I reached the kitchen, I could see that something was in the oven—a roast of some sort.
"Talking 'bout my girl—my girl."
Her sweet voice, Lila's excited laugh over "The Temptations" playing softly in the background eased something in me. As I inched my way around the kitchen counter in the direction of the television room, I wasn't so anxious to get to her anymore.
Instead, I was more anxious to watch.
Mads was sitting on the floor, right in front of the couch, her eyes on Lila lying flat on her back between Madelyn's legs. Lila was gurgling and kicking her arms and reaching for her mother with her little fingers, and Mads was singing to her, leaning over her, making Lila laugh by letting her long, dark hair dangle to tickle Lila's soft cheeks.
And she was smiling. My girl was smiling. It felt like it had been forever since I'd seen one so bright on her beautiful face.
"I guess you'd say, what can make me feel this way?" Mads was smiling so wide, my heart ached for a different reason entirely as I watched her. She leaned over Lila, who giggled again as Mads tickled her and finished the lyric, "My girl."
I was smiling despite myself. And the past twelve hours felt far, far away.
Because in those moments watching Madelyn with our daughter, I fell in love with her all over again. In a way that I hadn't had the chance to in the last month.
It didn't take long for her to notice me standing there watching her. Not nearly long enough for me anyway. I could've watched her, listened to her sweet voice and Lila's sweet giggle, forever.
Mads' smile disappeared upon seeing me though, and she reached beside her right before the music went off.
She looked up at me, anticipation in her eyes. Lila kicked, then gurgled loudly as if to say, Why'd you stop?
"Hey," Mads said softly. Carefully, not casually. There was emotion brimming over in the sound of it, in the way her body had straightened, the way she was looking at me. And I knew all at once that she was feeling the same way I was.
"I'm sorry," we both said simultaneously.
She laughed. So did I. And the relief that filled my heart then was so delicious I felt my whole body relax.
I walked further into the room, heading straight for her. There was still an easy smile on her face as she picked Lila up. "Look who's here," she said as I reached her, as I sat down beside her on the floor and looked into my daughter's eyes. "Say hi to Daddy."
Lila's eyes were wide and intent on mine, and her face broke out in a smile when I reached for her. "Hi, my little girl." She gurgled again, her smile melting every bit of my heart as I propped her up against my bent knees and stared into those dark blue eyes. "I missed you so much," I said to her, leaning forward to press a kiss to her soft cheek.
"She missed you, too," Mads said, and then she sighed beside me, and I felt her side press into my shoulder. "So did I."
Sorrow gripped my heart, and I turned my head to look at her, ready to apologize, but she beat me to it.
"I'm so sorry," she said with a shake of her head, her eye never leaving mine. "I don't know what came over me, I—I overreacted, and I felt horrible about it all day."
I laughed a little, and gripped Lila's arms a little tighter as I felt her squirm where she was set in the crease between my legs. "I did, too. And I never should've left without apologizing. I regretted it all day."
"I never should've let you leave like that," Mads said softly. "I just, I don't know what came over me."
"You're exhausted, Mads. We both are," I said, watching Lila watch the both of us like she could understand what we were saying. I touched a finger to her cheek. "Seems this little one's taking a lot out of us."
Mads let her head fall to my shoulder then, so we were both looking at our daughter. "She's worth it."
"She is," I said, letting my head rest on Madelyn's even as my gaze stayed on Lila. "What did you two get up to today?"
Mads blew out a breath. "Well... we went for a walk this morning after breakfast. Just around the block."
"Any sightings?"
Mads knew what I meant. "No, I didn't see anyone, anyway. If they did get pictures, it wasn't of Lila cause I didn't take her out of the stroller. Whatever they may or may not have gotten was just of me looking less than my best."
She laughed a little and I tilted my head so that I could press a kiss to her hair—it was soft and smelled strongly of coconuts. She must've just washed it.
"Then we came home and Lila had a bath, which she hated." Mads giggled a little—a breathy, tired sound and I could imagine the screaming. She touched Lila's belly. "Then she had a nap. She only slept for about forty-five minutes, but it was just enough time for me to fold the laundry and jump in the shower myself. Then we had tummy time, and some lunch, and played a little bit. Then we both fell asleep, which just—I needed that."
I considered those words. "I wish I was around to help more."
Madelyn's hand slipped around my waist and she hugged me close. "At least you'll be around this weekend."
"I'm so excited you have no idea."
"Oh, I think I do," she said. "How was work today?"
"Too long," I said. "I felt so guilty about this morning, I was ready to run home just to apologize and then run back."
Mads laughed a little bit, and turned her face so that her chin was propped up on my shoulder. "You're sweet."
"It's true," I said. "All I could think was that I'd failed miserably."
"What? How?"
"Because that was one of those moments you always hear about for new parents where patience is supposed to be key. And I had none of it."
Mads lifted her head and I looked at her, right into her wide, amused blue eyes. "If anyone failed in the patience department, it was me."
"But you have every right to lose your patience. You're a new mother, for Christ's sake, and you spend your days taking care of our child."
"And you're a new father," Mads defended. "A new, working father."
I stared at Lila, and shook my head a little. "It's not the same."
And it wasn't. I hadn't given birth. I couldn't feed her from my body—I wasn't quite literally keeping our daughter alive. I wasn't even with my daughter for 12, 13, sometimes 14 hours a day.
"You're right. It is different. Because you're providing for us, Harry. So, don't be so hard on yourself. Please."
I wasn't particularly satisfied with that defense, but I couldn't very well argue with it either. I was doing my part, I supposed. Just not in the way I would've liked.
Mads sighed, and I knew she could tell that I wasn't buying it. "Look, we both lost our patience this morning. But it's like you said—all new parents have moments like that. And I'm sure we'll have many more."
"We've been having them more and more often these days is the thing. And while today's was definitely the worst, I—I just—"
"I know," Mads said when I didn't continue. And her voice softened. "It sort of sucks, doesn't it?"
I looked at her, missed her even though she was right here in front of me. "It sucks a lot."
Lila gurgled and kicked again then, as if to say, Hey! I'm still here, ya know.
We both laughed a little as we returned our attention to her. And Mads leaned forward to look right into her eyes. "What is it, baby girl, hm? You happy to see Daddy?"
Lila smiled so wide, something took flight in my chest.
"She's getting bigger," I said, noticing her weight in my lap with a certain ache in my heart—I was missing it. Her small fingers curled around one of mine as I toyed with her.
"Well, she's eating enough," Mads said. "Definitely more than she used to."
I smiled at our baby girl, still squirming in my lap, all energetic after what must've been a good nap. I took in her head of dark hair, soft as feathers, noted her full cheeks and deep pink lips, those wide, dark blue eyes, so like her mother's. She looked just like her.
"She's so beautiful," I murmured.
"The most beautiful," Mads amended, letting her head fall to my shoulder again.
We sat in silence for a moment, studying the little human we'd created, before I said, "She really is worth it."
Again, Mads knew what I meant. If we lost our patience a little more often, if we were tired and cranky and snapping at each other, if we had sex less often than we would've liked, all we needed to do was look into Lila's eyes. Hold her little body. Watch her smile. And there it was—the reminder of a love so great, it was worth any cost.
"We're settling in, Harry," Mads said then. "All new parents deal with these kinds of things. And we're probably doing better than most." She touched a finger to Lila's cheek, and Lila turned to stare at her. "I wouldn't change a thing. Would you?"
Lila kicked a little more forcefully then, as if to say, C'mon! Stop talking and let's do something!
I grinned. "No."
And when I turned my head, Mads lifted hers. We stared at each other for a few moments, and I searched her eyes. They weren't as tired today, despite the dark smudges still beneath them, and her features weren't strained by exhaustion or frustration. She looked... content. Happy. And she was staring at me like she was about to say—
"I love you," she said, just as I was thinking it. She reached a hand up, touched my cheek. "I missed you today."
I closed my eyes and leaned into her touch, realizing how much I'd missed these tender moments between us. We'd been constantly running for the better part of four weeks, and these moments had come few and far between.
"I've missed you every day," I said, and I opened my eyes in time to catch the bit of sadness in hers.
She knew what that meant, too. Since Lila had come along, since I'd gone back to work, we hadn't felt like just Mads and Harry anymore. We'd turned into a Mom and Dad, worn down by life's demands.
So, before she could apologize for the distance, for the way she'd been changing, I kissed her. Because I didn't want her to apologize for that. It was like she said—we were settling in. Changing. Adjusting. These were growing pains, and Lila was worth every bit of the ache.
It was meant to be a relatively quick peck. But Mads followed my lips with hers when I pulled away, and her eyes stayed on my mouth when the kiss was over—until she leaned in again.
It was soft, almost questioning—like she had forgotten what this felt like and wanted to commit it to memory. I was aware of Lila still in my lap, but couldn't seem to stop myself—to rein myself in. I kissed her back with fervor, relishing the way her lips gripped mine between them, the way her tongue darted into my mouth and lingered, tracing my tongue.
There was a certain intensity in this kiss that had been absent from the quick kisses we'd been exchanging these last several weeks, and I wanted her. God, I wanted her.
But Lila had other plans for us, it seemed.
She gurgled and kicked ferociously then, as if to say, I'm still right here, you know.
And we both laughed when we pulled apart, glancing down at her as she continued to kick and squirm.
"Someone wants attention," Mads said, removing her hand from my chest so that she could tickle Lila's belly. It was only then that I tuned into how fast my heart was beating. "Don't you, baby girl?"
Lila cooed in answer, and Mads let her hair fall around her face again to dangle in Lila's and gave it a shake. Lila giggled adorably and grabbed onto it as Mads spoke to her some more.
The intensity lingered in my chest as I watched them, as my heart slowed, and I spread my fingers out on Madelyn's back as she cooed to Lila—felt the rapid beat of hers, too. As familiar to me as my own, and yet, the fluttering throb of it sent a thrill through me.
I ended up having to disentangle Madelyn's hair from Lila's fists, but we were all so happy, Mads was still smiling when she looked at me again. "You must be hungry."
"Starving, actually," I admitted, remembering it for the first time since I walked in.
"I figured," Mads said as she started to stand. "Chicken should be almost done, and I've got some rice in the rice cooker, so I'll just heat up some veggies."
"Do you want me to do it?" I asked, watching her pad into the kitchen, her long legs clad in leggings that did everything and more for her bum.
"No, stay with her. You haven't seen her all day," Mads replied, already opening up the fridge.
I looked at Lila and sighed as the sounds of Madelyn moving about the kitchen drifted over to me. As the relief in knowing that we were okay—that we loved each other just as much as ever—washed over me.
"You've got an amazing mother, little one," I murmured, gripping her small hand. "But you know that already, don't you?"
Lila wasn't silent this time. She cooed and smiled in response.
I smiled back. "That's my girl."
___
Author's Note:
Happy New Year, friends! Hope the start of 2018 has been good to all of you!
I'm sorry for last week--long story short, the busy-ness of the holidays kind of took over my state of mind, and writing just wasn't possible. I hope you understand, and I'm sorry to have let it go for three weeks without a chapter for ya.
But some good news: TRACE THE EDGES HAS OFFICIALLY BEEN PUBLISHED. The link to purchase it (as an e-book OR a paperback) is on my page! It would mean the world to me if you could check it out! I also wrote up a little blog post on my website the day it came out if you'd be interested in reading. I'll include the link to that on my wall as well--it explains a little bit more in-depth why I didn't end up writing last week.
I'M SO EXCITED ABOUT BEING PUBLISHED I COULD BURST OUT OF MY SKIN!! I hope that if you do purchase and read Trace the Edges, you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's the first book I ever wrote, and the most personal, too. And it's the best feeling ever to have it out in the world after such a long time keeping it close to my chest! If you do read it, it would be immensely helpful if you might consider leaving a review on the book's Amazon page. It doesn't have to be anything fancy or lengthy, just your thoughts about the story, if you liked it, didn't like it, etc. Lots of reviews mean that Trace the Edges will be more likely to pop up on recommendation lists for Amazon users all over the world, which would help me tremendously in getting the book some attention. So, if you have some time to write something, I'd be eternally grateful!
But I'm always eternally grateful lol. I know I say it all the time, but words still can't convey the extent of how much your support means to me.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, babes. Please don't forget to vote/comment if you feel so inclined. And if there are any errors in this chapter, I apologize. I haven't had the time today to do my second read-through, but I wanted to get it posted for you! Lots of love to you all. See you here again in two weeks! (Promise.) xx