FEAR

55

•VERENA•

I woke up to Dahlia crying. I glance at the clock it's 2:32 am. I got a crib delivered along with other necessities. I threatened to fire everyone if I didn't get everything for her, at that point if I didn't even care. My room was filled with everything she could need. It's been a while since I had last taken care of a baby or even been around one nothing about this shit comes naturally I don't care what anyone says. Women take care of the house and children my ass. As soon as I was drifting to sleep she would scream out crying only to fall back to sleep. I think she has a cold maybe a fever but I have no fucking idea what to give her. I had to google how to use a thermometer. I decided that I would let the doctor check her tomorrow. I just had to push through the night. I don't know how people do this.

Every single time she cried I wanted to cry with her. Then I keep in mind that I have to keep it together, for her and Theresa and Manny. Fuck you, Manny. Fuck you. Fuck me, I failed oh I felt this in my fucking soul. This was a part of my life, right? I failed, I wasn't there when he needed me again, and I couldn't do anything. I should've reached out more. I should have inserted, intruded just been there for him.

It didn't help that Dahlia was the perfect mix of both of her parents. One I watched died right in front of me. She had her mother's eyes.

I gave her the bottle that fell to the side of the crib. It was more than halfway finished. I groaned she was going to need another one. She held her bottle on her own, which wasn't common but I used this time to go downstairs to make her another. If Theresa was alive she would never use powdered milk for babies- or formula whatever this was called, no matter how expensive it was but I got no tittie juice so I bought some formula from Germany.

Simon was in the kitchen, he was middle of drinking something. I ignored him, too drained to care about anything but this bottle of milk. "Verena-"

I gripped the handle of the cabinet, I didn't like how strained his voice was like he hadn't had sleep in a while. I could see the dark circle under his eyes. I am not sure how often he smokes but I could smell it. I didn't have the energy to argue but now I felt my heart thumping in my ear. I could strangle him I wasn't beyond murder and if this baby finished that bottle before I could get back up there I was going to stab him and leave him down here to bleed out.

How long was he down here for? The little (bitch of a) voice said in my head.

I shouldn't worry about this bastard. But I could used him.

"If you want to help go pick her up before she cries, Simon." He turns to do just that.

When I finished making the bottle I struggle getting up the stairs, I was getting an elevator in my house. I never thought or wanted it before. It was too snobby but in this moment one would be great. When I walked into my room, Simon was holding Dahlia. She was wide awake bobbing her head. I took her from his arm and put the bottle against her mouth. She latched on instantly. "Happy birthday." I turned to look at him, I felt my lip start to quiver and I started to cry while soothing Dahlia back to sleep.

He kissed my tears off my cheek. I've had worse birthdays. I shrugged. "Not very happy."

"I'm so sorry." He pushed my hair off my face and kissed my temple, cheek, corner of my lips. I wanted to hug him, I needed a hug. I hugged him bring careful not to hurt Dahlia.

"I'm so tired." I cried. He nodded understanding that I didn't mean I was just sleepy.

"I got you." I nodded accepting that I couldn't do this on my own nor could I stay mad at him forever. I hugged him even tighter, god he smelled good despite the lingering smell of cigarettes and his body was so strong and warm. I pulled away.