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He’s barely four pounds, too tiny to fit in normal preemie clothes He needs special diapers and expensive forrown used to the annoying beep of his heartas we think they are and he stops breathing?

What if he rolls over in his sleep and chokes himself?

I’ up No new parent knohat they’re doing They wing every decision and hope for the best I’m petrified of the unknown, of the anomalies that are preemie babies that I don’t kno to prepare for

Maybe that’s why I’ into break the seal on a bottle of Jack Daniels

That, and I’ain

There’s a twisting feeling in the pit of my stooes down, but it’s a faotten too used to over the past two months When I don’t feel the worry-knot anymore, I put the cap back on the bottle

It’s now or never

I slip around the backside of the house, careful not to draw any attention to myself I want to find Layla Watch her for a few ood tio

I find her on the back patio next to Hattie, beautiful as ever I’m so transfixed by her, I don’t see the trash can to my left I bu to keep it upright so beer cans don’t spill everywhere and blow my cover

Layla’s brows push together as her gaze moves from Hattie over to me What’s left of her smile falls from her face She drops her drink and runs into the house

Every cell inat me to chase after her I don’t think I could have stoppedher if I wanted to My heart pounds inbehind Hattielike this happened

“Layla” I set my palm on the door, too nervous to pound on it lest I scare her or piss her off I’ else stacking up against ht “We need to talk”

The door rips open and I ale in balance Wet trails of uttedwoman and broke her Even if it was an accident, her pain is my fault

Layla’s face pinches together, her sadnessdarker She balls her fist and punches me in the stomach

It doesn’t hurt, but I pretend it does and double over It’s a dick move, but I play the sympathy card What can I say? I’ that she’s hurtmy stomach