Chapter Twenty-two

It was 4 a.m. when Ryan was awoken by a small sob coming through the baby monitor on his night stand. He glanced over at his sleeping wife, her dark hair in tangles, drooling onto her pillow. Even in that disheveled state, she was still absolutely stunning to him.

He stepped out of bed and pulled the comforter around her, stroking her hair. Grabbing a bottle, Ryan padded down the hall to the baby's room. Peering inside, he saw Charlie whimpering softly to himself from his bassinet.

"Hey there…", Ryan said as he lifted him from the blankets. "I think I've got what you're after." He placed the bottle into his son's tiny, pink mouth and watched him suck hungrily. Droplets of milk trickled down onto his yellow jumper, staining the designs of giraffes, elephants, and other zoo animals.

Charles was a gorgeous child. The sparse amount of hair that he had stood up in brown tufts on his head, and his eyes, which were now half closed, usually shined as blue as the sea. On mornings like this, Gillian would wake early to nurse him, and they would sit in the rocker, just the two of them. He would turn those eyes on her, so full of questions, and she would wonder just what he might be thinking.

The responsibilities brought on by this new person overwhelmed them both. Ryan and Gillian didn't talk about it much, but it was there, an overwhelming pressure to grow up and be an adult. It had come too fast, and they weren't prepared.

Ryan heard a tap at the door and looked up to see Gillian standing there in her bathrobe, watching them. She crossed the room and planted a kiss on Ryan's head, pausing for a moment just to enjoy being in his arms.

"I've missed you, baby."

He grinned back at her. "It's only been a few hours."

She looked away and rubbed her hand across Charlie's cheek, muttering under her breath, "If you say so."

"What?"

Gillian stiffened slightly. "Nothing. We'll talk later." She turned her attention back to Charlie, rocking him, singing to him, anything to divert her attention away from Ryan, who was giving her one of those looks that told her he could see right through her. She hated those looks.

As much as Gillian hated 'the look', Ryan hated the 'we'll talk later.' He would try to talk about it later, but most of the time, she would pretend she didn't know what he was referring to, and the subject would be swept under the rug.

Ryan rubbed his hands over the kinks in Gillian's shoulders, and decided to let it go. He knew she had been depressed since the baby had been born. He could hear her crying late at night, after she thought he had fallen asleep.

When Charles was finally sleeping again, Gillian laid him back down in his bed, and turned to Ryan. He pulled her into a tight hug, stroking her hair and her back. "Everything's going to be fine. You know that, right?"

Gillian looked up at him, and laughed. "Of course I know. Why wouldn't it be fine?"

Fears and suspicions aside, he kissed her with the tremendous amount of passion and love he had in his heart.


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