Page 4 of The Obsession
I spent half the night putting the furniture together, cursing at the damn instructions until it all finally stopped wobbling. Now it’s solid and safe.
There’s a stuffed teddy bear sitting in the corner of the cot, and the shelves underneath the change table are stacked with nappies, wipes, and a few baby books I don’t know if I’ll ever read to her.
This room still smells like paint, so I walk over to the window, cracking it open to let fresh air flow through.
I glance down at my watch. Mary should be here soon, and the thought makes my stomach go tight, but I tell myself it’s fine.
I’ve been pushed out of my comfort zone multiple times this week. When I walked into the baby store yesterday, I had no idea what I was doing. I just looked at the sales assistant and said,“I need everything for a newborn.”No checklist. No plan. Just a sense of urgency and the weight of responsibility pressing on my shoulders.
An hour later, I walked out with a cot, a change table, a pram, a car seat, and everything in between, some things I didn’t even know existed before I stepped through those doors. Bottles, swaddles, baby monitors, wipes, and a steriliser. I must’ve looked like a deer caught in headlights, but the assistant didn’t flinch; she just guided me through it all like I was a dad-in-training, whether I liked it or not.
It’s been overwhelming, but for every moment of panic, there’s been a spark of excitement. A growing sense of accomplishment, like I’m stepping into something bigger than myself. This whole experience is teaching me that it’s okay not to have all the answers; sometimes, just showing up is the bravest first step.
Every spare second I’ve had has been spent at the hospital. The nurses have been incredibly patient, kind, and completely unfazed by my cluelessness.
They’ve walked me through all the basics: how to make up Peach’s formula, how to burp her properly, change her nappy without making a total mess of it, and even how to hold her safely when I bathe her.
It’s a lot to take in, and honestly, some moments feel like I’m just barely keeping up. But I’m learning. Slowly. There’s a rhythm to it all that I haven’t quite found yet, but I’m hopeful that with time these things will become second nature.
Right now, everything is new and raw. But every time I hold my niece, even just for a few quiet minutes, it reminds me what all this is for. And that somehow I’ll figure it out—one bottle, one nappy, and one deep breath at a time.
I run a hand over the white rail of the crib, and the dark tattoos circling my wrist stand out against the white wood. “You’ll be happy here, Lil’ Peach,” I murmur under my breath.
I’ll make sure she is.
I take one last look around before stepping out. I can only hope it hasn’t all been for nothing … that soon,my placeand this overly frilly pink room will become my niece’s home.
I make my way into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water, trying desperately to swallow down the nerves as I wait for the knock on the door from the woman who’llultimately determine if I’m fit to eventually bring my niece home.
“You did all this in two days?” Mary says, her voice caught somewhere between surprise and disbelief as she steps into the nursery.
I nod with a tight jaw. I fucking hate having strangers in my house. Letting someone walk through my space and touch my things grates on my last nerve, but today’s a necessary evil.
It’s probably because I never had a space that was solely mine growing up. Not once I entered the system, anyway. Foster homes, group homes, couches, and uncertainty became my norm.
There was always someone new watching and judging you, so you quickly learned to keep your guard up and your world small.
“This …” Mary says in wonderment, gesturing with her hand as she moves further into the room to take it all in. “I have no words, Dominic.”
I reach up and rub the back of my neck, again feeling scrutinised and strangely proud of my achievement. “I told you I was serious about keeping my niece.”
“You understand that if you get her, it may only be temporary. If your sister can prove she’s clean, employed, and capable of providing a stable home for her daughter, the court could return custody to her.”
I nod because nothing would make me happier. “Yeah. I get it.”
I hate knowing my sister’s life has gone to shit; it keeps me awake at night. If she could clean herself up, I’d be fully on board with her stepping up and being a mother to her daughter.
Mary doesn’t say anything for a moment. Just looks around the room again, like she’s trying to find fault and can’t. “I still can’t believe you did this in two days,” she repeats, quieter.
“I had to.” I glance at the cot, then back at her. “Lil’ Peach needs somewhere safe to land when she gets out of the hospital. When I said I wanted her, I meant it, Mary. She’s my blood … I don’t want strangers looking after her.”
She presses her lips together. “You’re taking time off work?”
“Yeah. I’ve already filed for leave. I’m looking at switching jobs too, something with better hours and more flexibility. I have an interview later today.”
Technically, it’s not an interview per se, but she doesn’t need to know that. I’d have no chance in hell of getting temporary custody of this little girl if she knew what my real plans were and the kind of activities my new job title would include.
“I know you have no family support, Dominic, but what about a support network … like neighbours or friends?”
