Addicting Love

| T H I R T Y |

I moaned a little as I opened my eyes, seeing the ceiling of the living room in the burrow. I then looked down and saw Freddie's amazing looking hand on my stomach, his thumb stroking against a spot over my clothes. His other arm was also on my stomach, holding his phone. It looked like he was reading over an email.

He was laying back a little, but still propped up a bit. I was laying between his legs, the back of my head to his torso. I was scrunched up a little, but I was super comfortable.

"Where is everyone?" I whispered.

"Eating."

"What? How did Molly not yell at me to wake up?"

"I just told her you needed some sleep. She didn't try to argue." He said.

I did need sleep. I haven't been sleeping an entire night for a week now. I just can't do it.

Two days after I got off my birth control pill, I noticed how my mood started to go down. A lot. And how much I was also starting to get more involved with Emmy. I got her dressed in the mornings for about five days, and started feeding her every meal. I always asked Fred if I could do it and he always said of course. By a weeks after I was off that pill, I wasn't letting her leave my side... well, except for when Fred fucked me.

Which is another thing. Me and Fred are doing the good 'ol pull out method.

Fred hates it. Fucking hates it. I mean, it's not stopping his from fucking me, but he really doesn't like. I don't like it that much either. I like feeling him finish in me.

But what can we do? Have his wear a condom.

Ha.

... that sounds scary.

Anyways, back to Emmy and sleeping...

I don't know why I haven't been able to sleep. It's not because of Emmy crying, because that baby sleeps soundly through the entire night- no matter how loud I moan.

I really hope she can't remember this. She can't. Right? Dear god, I hope not.

There is just something in me that doesn't let me sleep. Something in my chest, and my mind just can't seem to settle, though I'm not thinking about anything.

I honestly think it's guilt. I literally feel so horrible for how I neglected my daughter for three weeks, that it keeps me up at night.

Fred has told me a thousand times that it's not my fault, and I was under a depressant.

But still...

I was a horrible mother.

For almost a month of my baby's life, I wanted nothing to do with her.

And I feel so fucking bad about that.

When she was born, I told myself she wasn't going to have a childhood like mine. She was going to have two, unproblematic parents.

But I'm such a problematic mother. There is always going to be something wrong with me. And eventually, Fred is just going to stop trying to help.

No. That's not true. I know it's not.

But I can't stop thinking that.

"Are you hungry?" Freddie asked.

"No," I said as I turned over to lay on my stomach, "just sleepy." I laid my head on his chest and smiled a little. My eyes drifted down to the carrier beside the couch, and saw Emmy all cuddled up in it, fast asleep.

Freddie's hand squeezed at my ass and I smiled, turning my face to hide it in his chest.

He put his phone down on my ass and wrapped his arms around me, kissing the top of my head.