Page 54 of Beautiful Small Things

“They look blue. How do you know they will be violet?” I say, studying her face.

Marcus’s eyebrows draw together and he squints while his mouth forms into a tight line. He’s angry. It’s then I realize that he knows the color of her eyes because of her mother, and jealousy ignites in my core. I can’t believe I envy the woman who just gave up her child. This is not the time to allow that type of thinking.

“So she will have violet eyes, then,” I concede, attempting to keep the resentment out of my voice. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m not sure yet, but it will come to me,” he says assuredly.

“I’m sure it will,” I smile. “It seems like you two are doing well together. I think I’m going to call a car to get me. It’s been a long day.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, cradling his daughter.

“Yes. As long as you’re going to be alright?” I add.

Marcus looks at his daughter and then back at me. “I think we will be fine,” he says. “I am a doctor, you know.”

“You’re a lot more than that, Marcus,” I say honestly.

I can’t stop thinking about Marcus as I lay in bed that night. I forced myself to push thoughts of him out of my mind after we had sex. What happened in the bathroom at my sister’s wedding had been something I’d always wanted, but also something that could’ve wrecked me had I allowed it. Afterward, I did my best to put as much physical distance between us as possible.

I was doing a great job until tonight. I can’t help but contemplate how much Marcus’s life is about to change. I meant what I said; he will be fine. He’s possibly the most adaptable person I’ve ever met. But it’s not going to be easy. His schedule is beyond chaotic, and it would be impossible for him to care for a newborn by himself.

The thought of someone else coming into that house and taking care of that baby stabs at my heart. It feels like a lead weight on my chest, which is completely nonsensical. His daughter is three days old and has no bearing on my life. Yet when I held her in my arms, it made sense. It felt like I was supposed to be there, holding her and comforting both of them.

This is just crazy. What am I doing? I need to get a hold of myself. He doesn’t need me. They don’t need me. But that’s not the thought that’s nagging me. The thought that keeps creeping into my subconscious is, what if I need them?

I physically shake my head at the thought as if trying to knock it out of my head. I flip over abruptly and smack my pillow before lying down with a loud huff. I’m tired. I’m tired and confused. I’m tired and confused and lonely. That’s all this is. I just need to get some sleep, and everything will become clearer in the morning.

I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and purge thoughts of tonight out of my head. I think about the beach and the sound of the waves. Then my mind wanders to the look on Marcus’s face when he told us about the baby. I push it away. I think about dancing and envision myself pirouetting on a grand stage in a beautiful costume. My mind takes me to rocking the baby and smiling as I take in her sweet smell.

I’m internally chastising myself for allowing these ridiculous thoughts when my phone rings on the nightstand.

“Hello?” I say, not trying to hide my annoyance with whoever is disturbing my manic episode.

A deep voice comes across the line. “Iris.”

“What?” I shake my head, trying to focus. “You have the wrong number.”

“James, it’s me,” Marcus chuckles, and my heart rate increases as warmth spreads throughout my body at the sound. “Her name is Iris.”

I let the sound of it float in the air for a moment, and it sits perfectly.

“I love it,” I tell him. “And the significance of her eyes. It’s poetic.”

“Actually, it’s a badass name.”

“Not this again,” I laugh, sitting up in bed.

“Iris means rainbow in Greek,” Marcus says. “It’s the name of the Greek Goddess of the Rainbow,” he says. “She’s a goddess.”

Nodding, I can’t help but agree. “You’re right. It’s a bad-ass name. It’s perfect for her.”

“Right?” he says.

“Where is Iris right now?” I ask.

“Asleep on my chest,” he says.

My mind flicks to that image, and I immediately evict it. I can’t go there. Daddy Marcus will do me in.