I can’t explain it, but I’ve been on cloud nine ever since hearing our little jellybean’s heartbeat.
Fuck, man. I don’t know when I started thinking of this baby as ours, because clearly, it’s not my anything. Nora’s not either, and while I’m not going to push her, I damn sure want her to be.
I want both of them to be mine.
It’s wild; if someone would have asked me a few weeks ago if I ever wanted kids, I’d have laughed. But now I’m racking my brain trying to think of where we can stick a nursery and how I can convince Nora to stay here with me.
Even if nothing more ever happens between us, I want to be in this kid’s life, and while I’ll gladly take on any role she’ll allow me, I want to be a good example for him, to right my dad’s wrongs.
Not that we know it’s a boy—hence jellybean because calling the baby it didn’t feel right.
I’m so far ahead of myself it’s not even funny. Forget putting the cart before the horse, I’m mashing the gas pedal to the floor and there’s not even an engine under the hood.
0
0 Comments