Addicted After All(103)

When they spin back around, Connor sets his sights on me and nears. My attention falls to baby Jane, who looks content in her father’s arms.

“She’s so cute,” I whisper to him.

“Why don’t you give her the rest of the bottle?”

“Wha…” My pulse speeds again, and Lo raises his brows at me. This was his big idea? I’m now way more panicked.

“You won’t hurt her,” Connor says, suddenly about to rest Jane in my arms.

“No, wait,” I say quickly. He stops midway to listen to my alarm. “What if I drop her? Or I choke her? What if she cries? Rose won’t like it.”

Connor’s lips lift in a smile, amused. This isn’t amusing. This is some scary stuff. “You won’t drop her. You won’t choke her. And if she cries, just rock her. I’m right here, Lily.”

“And Rose?”

“Loves you,” Connor finishes. “And she would be more than happy to ease your fears about doing this with Maximoff. You’ll be great.” Before I can protest, Jane is in my arms.

She’s so tiny. Her little fingers wiggling and waggling as she sucks on the bottle. She barely makes a peep as Connor steps back from me.

It’s not as terrifying as I thought. I breathe out, expelling some nerves.

I tilt the bottle and let Jane drink the contents.

Rose and I discussed breastfeeding some time ago, and to no one’s surprise, she was adamant about using formula. She’s not a maternal, touchy-feely person, so it makes sense that she wouldn’t find joy in breastfeeding like other women do. For other reasons, I’d prefer formula too, even if breastfeeding has health benefits.

But I worry about the ridicule and backlash if the public finds out. I can see the headlines: Lily Calloway chooses formula over breastfeeding. She cares more about herself than her child.

Rose told me that I shouldn’t be shamed for my choices—no woman should. But the pressure is already there, no matter where or who it comes from.

Jane finishes off the bottle, and she squirms a little in my arms.

“Put her against your chest and gently pat her back,” Connor instructs.

With a nervous pit building in my stomach, I listen to his directions and press Jane to my chest. I give her a couple pats and rub her back too. She burps a bit, and then she begins to relax. I blow out a tense breath. That wasn’t so bad. I cradle her, watching Jane tiredly close her eyes. And I feel my lips rise in a smile. She drifts back to a temperate sleep.

A minute later, Connor collects his daughter from my arms and delicately places her back in her white crib.

We all drift into the lit hallway, careful not to make too much noise.

Lo kisses my cheek. “How do you feel?”

“Better.” Though Jane could very well be one of those genius babies that are easy to handle.

“I’ll see you both in the morning,” Connor says before he departs to his bedroom down the hall. Lo brings me to our room, and his hand falls to the small of my back.

“About that Hogwarts trip,” I start.

His hand freezes on the doorknob. “Lil…” His voice is more serious. “You know it’s not—”

I almost pounce on him to cover his mouth with my palm. “Don’t say it’s not real.” It’s just as bad as saying fairies aren’t real. One of them will die as a result. We have to keep the faith.

He patiently waits for me while my hand is pressed against his pink lips, but his amber eyes glimmer like I’m really beautiful in this moment.

“Hogwarts is real,” I say. “You know, we can go to Universal Studios and visit Diagon Alley.” Sometimes we even head over to the UK to visit the castle where the movies were filmed.

Realization crosses his face, and I drop my hand. “Right. Of course, love.”

“Well,” I continue on, “I want to wait for Maximoff. When he’s a little older. Maybe three or four. We could take a trip together.”

Lightness bursts in his eyes, something that lifts me ten feet in the air. I am soaring inside. “He can’t be sorted until he’s eleven,” Lo reminds me.

“Okay,” I nod, knowing that’s the rules. I’m a proud Hufflepuff. Lo is a bitter Slytherin. And together I kind of wonder what our child will be.

“Then it’s a plan,” Lo says, and I glow at his words. Maybe we shouldn’t be making them so far ahead. Anything could happen. The worst could strike us cold.