mine {h.s.} | {b3}

CHAPTER ELEVEN

— CHAPTER ELEVEN —

april, year one.

On April 2, Edie turns two months old.

This is also the same day that Fitzy turns forty-seven—a fact that caught Harry and I by surprise. We always knew that he was older than us, but I think that there was a part of us that was inclined to believe that he was the same age as my first husband, Will. Will who just turned forty-five this past November, wherever in the world he was. Is. The logistics of such are unknown to me; something that I have only recently realized that I have no problem with. When Will left me, he did the best thing in the world for me. I didn't know it at the time, but he was setting me up to spend the rest of my life with the true love of my life; my actual soulmate.

Regardless, I think we both always assumed that those two years between my ex-husband and Fitzy were nonexistent. From the moment that we walked in the halls of Seattle Medical Center, everyone knew that Tavish Fitzgibbons and William Morrison were best friends. They'd met during their own time in the hospital and a friendship flourished despite the age difference. By the time that our group of interns rolled around, the age difference between them was insignificant as they were both already in high positions of their field.

"If ye remind me," Fitzy says, dramatically waving a hand over his face as he sighs. He's sitting in the little breakfast nook in the kitchen as he drinks his morning coffee. Harry is sitting across from him, bouncing Edie in his arms as she gurgles with what I like to think is amusement. I've only just stumbled into the kitchen, but I'm already making my way towards my kettle. The morning is unusually brisk for this time of year.

"Yes? What will you do, dear?" Harry teases, fluttering his lashes at Fitzy.

More than once since our friend decided to temporarily move in with us—he is still here, though in the past few days he has begun to repeatedly assure us that he is planning his return back to his apartment. His help here has been necessary. Finally I can say with confidence that Harry and I are at a place where we should be able to get by without needing the assistance of what has become our live in nanny—we have all joked together that we are making Fitzy domestic. The once womanizer has become a homebody; a third parent to Edie Ruth and the third partner in my relationship with my husband. Fortunately, Fitzy has bought into it with the natural sort of ease that he buys into everything.

"Dinna ken," Fitzy sighs, dejected. He leans back lower onto the bench. "For the first time in me life I feel auld."

"You're not old." I answer automatically, leaning my bodyweight against the counter as I look at them. My boys I've come to collectively refer to them as. They both respond to this calling, neither one taking issue with it.

Until I met Harry, I didn't know what it meant to have a family. Now, I have a husband, our daughter, and then our live-in-everything. He is like a second father to Edie when he needs to be, a cook when he needs to be, a cleaner when he needs to be, a friend when he needs to be, and a shoulder to cry on when he needs to be. Each aspect of his personality he has risen to with a natural sort of gusto—something that I would only ever expect to see from the man across from me now.

"I'm no young, either." He gruffly responds, obviously not impressed. "I'm forty-seven."

"And a happy birthday to you," I say, crossing over the kitchen to stand in front of him. Pulling him up towards me, I run a hand through his hair and press a gentle kiss on the top of his head. He doesn't swat me away, but rather melts into the maternal sort of show of affection. Until Harry, I'd never considered myself to be an affectionate person. Once I had my Harry, that changed. Though, that only changed with him. He was the only person that I was comfortable giving that level of affection to. In the two months since giving birth to Edie, I've become more outward with my affection towards other people. Or, maybe Fitzy is just the outlier and the exception. After all, he has become a member of our family.