He takes his hand off of my back and I hear his footsteps as he walks back across the room to his own bed. When he took his hand off my back, part of me felt empty and just slightly lost. Like maybe he was supposed to have his hand on my back and I just barked at him and chased him away. I feel horrible for yelling at him the way I did; I really do. But I just need to be left alone right now. There's nothing Alex—of anyone, for that matter—can do to make me feel okay. I know myself better than anyone knows me and I know when I need to be left alone and when I need to be comforted. This surely isn't an instance where any amount of comforting can help me in any kind of way. I snivel and move my head to a dry portion of my pillow. There's a soaking wet blob on my pillow from where my tears fell at and even though I have about five other dry, soft pillows at my disposal, I don't feel like lifting my head up and grabbing one. I'd rather lie here on my wet pillow than pick my head up right now. I'm not sure if I'm nursing myself back to sleep right now or if I'm nursing my pride since I just cried in front of him. Either way it goes, I still can't stop crying. I'm trying to put a lid on my feelings and stop my tears but I can't. The harder I try to stop crying, the harder I actually cry.

If I could ask myself one question, it would be why now? Of all the other times I could've had nightmares about the accident and broken down about it, why now? Why wait until I'm all the way in Disney World and had the best day of my life in a LONG time to start dreaming about it? It's like someone—maybe Mark—is punishing me for having such a good day and having thoughts about Alex like that. After doing what I did, I'm not meant to have a good time and I'm especially not meant to be thinking about moving on and wanting to date other men. I think I'm being punished for that. Punished for having a good time when my husband and my baby are dead. Punished for even having thoughts about wanting to date Alex when my husband's only been dead for seven months. Some might ask how the hell having a nightmare could possibly be punishment, but please believe me when I say that it is. The nightmare I just had is the cruelest form of punishment I've ever been subjected to. It was so real. Everything about it was so real. My hips even started to hurt and my ears were ringing from the sound of my own screaming. It was so scarily realistic. The only way I knew I was dreaming is from the way the dream kept jumping around. One minute I was stuck in the car with Mark hanging by his seatbelt beside me. The next minute, I was lying in a hospital bed listening to my mom cry and pray to the God she doesn't believe in for me to be okay. And then they were trying to tell me that I wasn't alone. The doctors were trying to tell me that I shared my body—for three months—with someone else without even knowing it.

Clearly I'm being punished for this and nobody can convince me otherwise, because why else would I just now begin to dream about it? It happened seven months ago and up until tonight, I never once had a nightmare about it. Sure, memories would flash through my head every so often in the weeks following the accident, but they usually just faded right back out. Those times, I would be in too much pain to even think about what happened, I'd be too tired of being dragged in and out of courtrooms to properly process the fact that my husband and my…my baby were dead. So yeah, the memories would come and go in the weeks following the accident but never, ever, ever did I have a single gut-wrenching nightmare like the one I just had until today. Until today, when I smiled for the first time in seven months, when I laughed for the first time in seven months and when I actually considered the possibility of going on a date with someone else. If there is a God, he clearly doesn't believe that I deserve to be happy and in another relationship. I hate to say it, but I agree with the God, whether he exists or not.

I don't know what was scarier in my dream; the sound of my voice cracking when I was screaming and begging for my husband to wake up, the sound of my mother…the strongest woman I know…breaking down the way she did over my body when I was still in this medically induced coma; or reliving the same feeling I felt when the doctor that bolted my shattered pelvis back together told me that my baby didn't make it. Told me that he called in a fetal surgeon and an obstetrician and they did everything they could. If you've never heard those words come from a doctor's mouth before, be grateful. If you have heard those words come out of a doctors mouth however, you know what I mean when I say that those five words; those "we did everything we could" means absolutely nothing. That's a load of bullshit if I've ever heard one in my life. I don't…I don't mean to be such a bitch. I don't mean to come off as callous, hard, shallow and emotionless. Just believe me when I say that losing your husband and your unborn baby all in the same day…that does things to you. It does things to you and when those things are done, it just feels a hell of a lot better to not feel at all.

I sniff once again and take a deep breath. I really should try and get some sleep. I don't know what time Alex is trying to wake up and head down to Epcot tomorrow. I imagine he wants to get up pretty early so that we have enough time to make it through the entire park in one day and I've already wasted about half an hour sitting here crying when it's already around 12:30. I wipe my face with the already wet pillowcase and lift my head up to finally switch it out with a dry one. As soon as I pick my head up off the pillow though, my ears start ringing much like they rang when I was screaming in my dream. I shake my head at myself for being pathetic and slam my head back down in the wet pillow since it seems like I'm not over my little episode yet and it's likely that I'll start crying again. I muffle my mouth with the pillow and end up moaning into the pillow before I start crying again.

Would it help if I said that I was sorry? Because I am. I'm so sorry for everything I've done. I know saying sorry won't bring my husband back and it surely won't make the fact that I lost my baby hurt any less but I just think that I need to know it. I am so, so sorry. I'm just stupid, I guess. It was a mistake. It was an honest-to-god mistake. A mistake that cost me everything but a mistake nonetheless. Or maybe it was a momentary lapse of judgment on my part. It had to have been something because I knew. I knew as soon as I got behind that wheel that I didn't need to be driving. I was so drunk that I could hardly walk but I somehow thought I was okay to drive? I groan into the pillow once again as my stomach muscles start to ache from the sobs that have been rocking my body. It's dead silent in the room aside from my occasional crying moans, but beside me, I feel the mattress sink in. I barely felt it and surely didn't hear it because the mattress is just that soft, but I did feel something. Next to where I'm lying, I feel the blankets tousle a bit and the mattress move just slightly. Next, I feel a hand against my back. "Shh…"

Alex's Point of View.

I tried to fall asleep. I tried to ignore her, put it out of my mind and fall asleep since I'm going to need as much rest as I can possibly get since we're going to be walking around a park tomorrow/today. But as I laid there in my bed next to my sleeping daughter and closed my eyes, I kept hearing her. The hum of the air conditioning unit drowned out the sounds of her sobbing but eventually, I just tuned out the air conditioning and all I was left with was the sound of her bawling her eyes out into her pillow. She wasn't being loud, nor was she being inconsiderate. She cries softly, barely audible. But I made it a point to listen. I was trying to hear it and so I did. I know she told me to "go away" and she really sounded like she meant it when she said it, but how could I? I know that touching her could possibly make her yell at me again but that's a risk that I'm willing to take. I just need to know if she's okay. She's crying so hard. "Shh…" I rest my hand in the middle of her back and adjust my positioning as I lie down next to her on the bed. Her head is facing away from me but I think she's actually going to let me stay here. Her head is to the side and facing away from me, she's laying on her stomach and her arms are resting up underneath the pillow she's laying on. She doesn't stop crying when I touch her though. She's hiccupping and trying to catch her breath. "Are you okay?" I whisper to her. Very honestly, she shakes her head. "It was…It was only a dream, Jo." I start moving my hand up and down her back, slowly at first just to see if she's going to tell me to get off at all. "It wasn't real."

"B-but it was." Her voice is unlike anything I've ever heard before and admittedly, it scares me a little. Not because the tone she's taking is scary but because Jo's voice is usually bubbly, energetic and sweet. Her voice tonight is haggard, cracking and very breathy. "It was real…it was so real."

"No it wasn't." I prop myself up on one elbow as I drag my fingertips up and down her spinal column. "I'm real. I'm real, you're real and this right here? This is real. Not that dream you just had. It was a dream. It wasn't real. It was over when you woke up. No part of that dream was real." She nods her head and just barely picks her head up. She coughs very softly and puts her head back down. "…Well, what was it about?" She shakes her head this time. "Don't wanna talk about it?" She shakes again. "Well it was only a dream. It wasn't real. You don't have to cry. It wasn't real."

"Yes it was, don't you get it?" She props herself up on her hands and actually turns her head to face me. It's dark in the room with the only light coming from the nightlight in the bathroom that's shining through since the bathroom door is open. Her cheeks are shining in the dim light from the tears making them wet, her eyes are glistening with tears lining the rims of them and her bottom jaw is trembling like crazy. "It's all real, Alex. It's all real…it might've been a dream but it's real. It's real and I live it every single day and I want to forget it. I wanna forget it but I can't…I can't." She puts her head down and her entire body just…shakes because she literally just broke down. I grab her arm and she yanks away from me for a moment before she just submits and gives in to me. She lets me pull her over and it doesn't take her long to realize what I'm trying to do. To my immense surprise, she actually helps me do it. Her head falls on my bare chest and her arms wrap around my waist as my own arms wrap around her upper body. She buries her face in my chest like it's a pillow and just lets it all out. My chest is soaking wet but I don't mind.

Her hands rest flat against my back since her arms are around my waist and her hands are stuffed behind my back. I continue rubbing her back with my fingertips and she seems to like that because she's calming down a little. See, I knew Jo was capable of feeling. I'm not surprised she had a breakdown though. When you bottle your feelings up the way she's been doing, they come out all at once and they just come in a flood of issues and it most likely results in a breakdown. Something tells me that she's not nearly as strong as she tries to get me to believe she is. I don't have a problem holding her until she's done crying though. I'll lie here all night and rub her back if she needs me to. "It's okay." I whisper and trace my fingers across her shoulders in addition to her back. I trail my fingers back down to her lower back and they slide across a small indentation in her hip, so I turn my head to see what it is. It's another scar. I don't question it even though I want to.

She sniffs softly and inhales. When she exhales, I feel her breath against my chest and I feel her wet eyelashes as she blinks. "It was a car accident." She whispers and her breath blows against my chest again as she speaks. I don't interrupt her. I think she just needs someone to listen to her and I'll be that person. "His birthday fell on a Wednesday…and it was a weekday, so we couldn't celebrate it right away since he had things to do. He was the mayor, so he was always busy…with meetings and signings and stuff." She sniffs and clears her throat. "But his parents wanted to celebrate his 30th birthday, so we waited until Friday to have the party…and we had the party at this parents' house across town…so they could invite their friends and stuff. And there was…a lot of alcohol there." She sniffs again. "I don't know my limits, I guess. Because I didn't think I was that bad. I…I've always had a problem with that. I just didn't know. I thought I was okay to drive home; convinced Mark that I was okay to drive home and everything. And he gave me his keys. I got behind the wheel and I felt fine. But when I started driving…I knew it was a mistake. I just knew. I couldn't keep my eyes open and I needed to throw up and he just told me to pull over but I was already halfway home by then so I just…I thought I could make it. It was just straight down the road and a left turn and we were home. But we never made it home. He never made it home." She hiccups very softly and continues. "We went head first into one of those…those guardrails they use to block the road off from a cliff. Like…up over the median, head first into the guardrail. And the car almost went over the…the cliff when we hit the rail because it smashed and the tail end shot up. But somehow it went sideways instead and we rolled…six times and landed on the top. And we were hanging by our seatbelts, thank God we were wearing them. And we were um…stuck. Underneath the car, we were stuck…for 45 minutes…"

She finally stops talking and I can't really believe my ears. First off, I can't believe she's actually spilling her guts to me but more than that, I can't believe she was that irresponsible. Jo doesn't seem like the type to make such a horrible judgment call. She seems smart. So that's how she got all her scars? That's why she walks funny sometimes and I'm assuming that's why she doesn't drink. "Oh…Jo, you—" She shakes her head and scoots away from me.

"Alex, don't…I already know." She keeps shaking her head but just to let her know that I'm not judging, I pull her back over to me. "I shattered my entire pelvis…broke every bone in there. Spent 12 weeks in a cast and 13 in a wheelchair." She sounds like she's going to cry again. "I looked over and half my husband's head was gone. I can't get the sound of him crying out of my head. He was alive and he was crying and half his head was gone…it was just…gone and he was still alive somehow. And then he wasn't. He told me he was gonna make it…for me, he said. 'We're gonna get outta this alright, baby' he said…and then nothing else. Next thing I know, I'm in a hospital and I'm circling the drain. And they're telling me…they're telling me…that…" Her voice starts cracking again so I squeeze her tighter. I don't know what else to do besides that. "How do I not know? For three months, how do I not know?" I'm a little confused now but I'll let her vent. "That would've made a difference if I knew. I wouldn't have been drinking that night." She sniffs. "And then you know how that is…you know how…when you find things out, you look back and put the pieces together and then everything makes sense?" She coughs. "Like oh yeah, that's why my stomach felt funny. That's why I felt like there was something in there. That's why my boobs hurt, that's why my period was so light…" Is she saying…? "Three months and I didn't know. I mean who does that? What kind of person doesn't know they're three…months pregnant? What kind of person drinks their baby to death?" She shakes her head. "They said that it was the accident that did it. They said…that they had a heartbeat when I got there, that the alcohol likely didn't cause it. Blunt force trauma and a shattered pelvis…a piece of bone that…that pierced my uterus…that caused it. But it was the alcohol. If I wasn't so stupid, it would've been just fine. I don't care what medical reason caused it, it's my fault and it all goes back to the fact that I was pissy ass drunk and driving a car." She closes her eyes. "And now I can't have anymore. A pelvis made more of metal than it is bone isn't good for having a baby so they just…took that away from me. And I don't need you to tell me how stupid I was, Alex because I already know. I know."

"…I wasn't." I shake my own head and continue to hold her. "I was actually thinking that it's about time you let it all out." I know I should probably be all supportive, offering a moment of silence and all, and I really want to do that. I want to be the supportive friend. But I can't help thinking about how our relationship might have just gone to the next level because she's finally letting me in. It's been exactly one month, one week and three days since I first met Jo. Which means it took me one month, one week and three days to actually get something out of her. Finally, she's not acting like she has to be the strongest person in the world around me. I've finally gotten through that wall of hers and I don't know exactly how I should feel about that, but I feel a little bit relieved to know that she's not a complete robot. "Is that why you left Massachusetts?" I don't want to push it any further but of course, I have a lot of questions. She just dropped a little bit of a bombshell on me.

"I was tired of being called a murderer." The tone of her voice changes and she's whispering again. She slowly picks her head up off my chest and turns her head to face me. Our eyes meet and unlike the last time we looked each other in the eye after having a meaningful conversation, there is no electricity. No, I think we're past that. I think our hearts, our feelings are past that. This time when I look in her eyes, I feel a straight connection. It's like picking up a cell phone without service. The first time we looked at each other, the phone had no service and all we got was a dial tone. This time when we look at each other, someone's on the other end of the phone. It's not an electrical spark anymore, it's a full-blown electrical current. I wonder if she feels that too. "…Don't look at me like that." Her eyes well up with tears again. "Don't look at me like that, Alex. I know you think I'm horrible, but…" She shakes her head. "Please don't look at me like that. Like…Like I'm a…a killer."

"I wasn't looking at you like that…" I guess that answers my question about whether or not she felt the same kind of connection. She thought I was judging her. "There's nothing you can say to me that'll make me change the way I think about you, Jo." Her face is all puffy. Her eyes are glistening with tears, her cheeks are soaking wet and her nose is red…but I think she looks really pretty. "I form my own opinions…and I know what kind of person you are. I don't give a damn about anything you've done that you're not proud of…we all have things to be ashamed of and things we did but wish we hadn't. I wasn't looking at you any kind of way and I wasn't thinking anything bad of you." I watch her face turn from pure shame to a little bit of happiness. Not much, but just a little. "I was just thinking of how hard it must be for you to walk around with something like that on your shoulders…and I was thinking about how strong you are for being able to put something like that behind you. I would've never guessed…"

She starts wiping her face like her tears are a big inconvenience. I think she's back to her old, hiding her feelings self. She's wiping her tears away like she's trying to convince me and herself that they were never even there in the first place. She sniffs, clears her throat and rolls her eyes around. "You're my best friend, Alex." She smirks just slightly and keeps wiping her face. "Really…you are. I don't…" She sniffs and shakes her head. "I don't know what I would do without you sometimes."

"You're my best friend too, Jo." I don't think friends do what I'm about to do, but I'm tempted and I don't think she'd mind. I run my fingers through her hair and push it back, away from her face. We freeze for a moment; my hand underneath her chin and both her hands up underneath my back. Our eyes are locked in each other's and I don't have to wonder this time if she feels that connection. I can tell by the way she's looking at me that she does. Neither one of us blink, we just stare. My thoughts were running at a thousand miles a minute. From being glad she called me her best friend, to feeling downright sorry for her, to wanting to be the one that wiped away her tears, to wanting to be the supportive best friend. But as soon as our eyes locked, my thoughts stopped. I can't even remember what I was thinking about at this point. There's a time when staring at each other becomes awkward but with Jo, I don't think it's ever going to become awkward. It doesn't surprise me that she's the first one to break the stare. What she breaks it with though, is more important than the stare itself. Very slowly, she begins to close her face in on mine and for the first time tonight, she's not completely wrong with what I was thinking. We were thinking the same thing. I tilt my head to the side opposite the one she tilted hers to and close in on her face.

Our two bottom lips just barely graze each other. I can feel her breath against my two lips and I feel alive. I was tired a moment ago but not anymore. It's as if every nerve in my body shot up to my lips and it's just building up, not able to hold off kissing her. Our bottom lips touch first; hers are so soft and smooth. It feels like warm, polished glass sliding across my lip. She parts her lips a little and so do I. The anticipation is satisfying in itself, I can only imagine what the actual kiss will be like. It's not until this moment that I realize I've been waiting a month, a week and three days to kiss this woman. "…We shouldn't." She whispers to me but she doesn't make any possible effort to pull away. Our bottom lips are still touching but she's telling me that we shouldn't kiss. "We really shouldn't…"

"But I want to." I whisper back and before she can say anything else to stall progress, I jut my head forward to complete the kiss and at the same time, she moves her head forward too. How are her lips so soft? So smooth…perfect. We don't exchange tongues though, and that's another thing that we're on the same page with. We crush our lips together with the exact same intensity but neither one of us feel the need to open our mouths and use tongue. It's not that kind of kiss. It's not lustful, sensual nor is it sexual. It's gentle, affectionate and chaste. Like taking a sip of champagne or wine. Not enough to overdo it but enough to get the affect, the taste. I was right. The anticipation buildup only made this more worth it. And we pull apart at the exact same time. I open my eyes very slowly and when I do, I see that Jo's already opened hers and she's looking down, refusing to look me in my eye. I use my thumb to wipe a little bit of spit off the side of her lip. I end up tracing the shape of her lips with my thumb and she slowly boasts an innocent, soft, toothless smile.

"Goodnight, Alex."

Jo's Point of View.

I'm still a little bit messed up from last night; not necessarily over the nightmare I had but over everything, really. I'm not quite sure what I'm feeling right now. I still haven't quite decided if I liked the fact that we kissed last night and I haven't decided how I feel about the fact that he held me, all night. I woke up this morning in his arms, laying on his bare chest. I don't really remember anything that happened after we kissed, all I remember is pulling away from the kiss, him touching my mouth after the kiss, me telling him goodnight and me lying down on his chest again. I don't remember how I got him to stay in the bed with me and I don't remember what made him want to. I don't remember him getting underneath the covers with me and I don't remember wrapping my arms around him. It happened though, because when I woke up this morning, my head was directly in the middle of his chest, my arms were around his waist and one of my legs was draped across his lower body. His arms were around me too, and his head was against my head. We slept like that all night, I do believe. Thankfully, I woke up before everyone. I woke up before Alex and before Lyla. Immediately, I tapped Alex on the shoulder and he automatically knew what I was tapping him for. He had to hurry up and scramble in order to get back in the bed with Lyla before she woke up and saw us. That's crazy, isn't it? The fact that we have to hide the fact that we fell asleep together from his four year old daughter, I mean. You would've thought that I slept with a married man with the way Alex was scrambling around to make it back to his bed. We both know how bad that could've been if Lyla had saw us sleeping together. I really don't think she'd be okay with that.

I wish I could read Alex's mind because as of right now, I have no idea what he's thinking. Neither one of us have mentioned the kiss or the fact that we slept together and we've been awake since 9:30 this morning. It's currently 1:00 in the afternoon. I'm not quite sure if the kiss and the sleeping together is something that we don't have to mention or if it's something we're avoiding. I think it's one of those things we don't have to mention. We both know it happened, we just haven't addressed it. A kiss can work miracles for a relationship, I guess. When Lyla isn't looking, Alex will just randomly grab my hand and hold it as we're walking around the park and he's perfectly okay with eating off of me now. We didn't kiss with tongue or anything but still, I guess kissing someone brings a new level of trust. We stopped at an ice cream pavilion and got ice cream. Alex offered me to taste some of his and I did and he ate some of mine too. I know that's a simple gesture and probably nothing major but to me, it is. Ice cream isn't just something you share with random people, especially when it's a cone that you've licked over and over.

What I like the most about Alex is the fact that he hasn't even thought to mention what we talked about last night. I think he knows that I hate being vulnerable and vulnerable is an understatement compared to what I was like last night. I haven't cried like that over Mark and my baby's death…ever. Yet somehow, lying in Alex's arm made it okay. Sure, I bawled my eyes out and I looked like an idiot in front of him but he passed absolutely no judgment and it felt good to have someone holding me and just listening to me. I don't know if he kissed me because he felt bad for me or if I let him kiss me because I was an emotional mess, but either way it goes, that kiss was special. I may not know what it meant, but I do know that it was very special. It wasn't a tongue-kiss or full-blown makeout but it was very meaningful. I can't say for sure if the kiss brought out any romantic feelings, but I can say that it hasn't changed the fact that I feel like Alex is my absolute best friend in the entire world.

Of course, there were already feelings before the kiss. They weren't very strong and I don't even know if I would call them romantic at this point. But they were feelings nonetheless. Mostly feelings of wanting to explore the possibility of a relationship and feelings of wondering what we could become, if anything at all. They weren't really romantic feelings as much as they were feelings of wonder, attraction maybe. I didn't realize how much I wanted to kiss Alex until we actually did. But it's not something that I really want to do again. I mean of course, if I had the opportunity to kiss Alex again, I would take it. I wouldn't reject a kiss from him. But the kiss isn't what I've been thinking about. It's not something that's been sweeping me off my feet and occupying my every thought. What's been occupying my every thought is what I actually feel for this man. He's one of the only people that has heard my story and told me that he doesn't think I'm a horrible person. He didn't judge me. When everyone else did, he didn't. He wrapped his arms around me and let me cry on his chest. He's my best, best friend. If he never becomes my boyfriend, that's okay…as long as I can keep him as my best friend.

"Hey Alex…I'm gonna run to the bathroom before we go inside, okay?" We're standing in line to see the Finding Nemo exhibit, which is basically just a really fancy aquarium with all the characters from Finding Nemo in it. I really have to pee though and I saw a bathroom off in the corner, near the exit. Lyla's holding onto his hand and sucking on a lollipop while we wait. She's not as fascinated with Epcot as me and Alex have been, but that's probably because all Epcot really is, is a bunch of exhibits and hardly any rides. Her most favorite part already happened, and it was when we took her to the Chinatown exhibit and she came in contact with Mulan, Mushu and Shang. She's been really good though, I have to admit that much. "I'll be back soon, just wait up for me." Alex nods his head at me and takes my bag for me. We ate lunch at Mulan's Nine Dragons Restaurant and I had a big helping of Nine Dragons Fried Rice. It was to DIE for but I got super full and Alex paid $72.00 for our bill and I wasn't about to waste it so I boxed it up. I'll eat it at the hotel later.

"Where going, Doedoe?" Lyla takes her lollipop out of her mouth and looks up at me with worrisome green eyes. Her lips are all purple from her lollipop and she's very sticky but she's so cute I can't stand it. She tried to wear the dress she got during her makeover yesterday to the park today but Alex wouldn't let her. Instead, she's wearing a frilly purple tutu and a pink Sleeping Beauty t-shirt. I did her hair this morning. She was really upset that her princess bun didn't stay in while she was sleeping last night so I put it back in for her and tied a pink ribbon around it to add some prettiness to it. "Comin' back?"

"I'm going to the potty, honey. I'll be right back." I turn to leave but I just had a thought, so I turn back around. "Do you have to pee?" She wrinkles her brow and tilts her head. "Do you have to go pee pee, Lyla?" She looks like she's thinking about it. Eventually, she nods her head. "Come with me. We're gonna go pee pee in the potty okay?" Alex looks at me like I'm nuts. "Don't worry, I've got her." His look softens into the same look he's been giving me all day. I haven't quite deciphered that look yet. It's something crossed between "you're amazing" and "I've kissed you". I don't know which one he's going for but I haven't figured it out. He's been looking at me like that all day though. I take Lyla's hand. "You wanna go on the potty?" She nods her head. "Alright come on then."

"How?" She looks up at me with her lollipop still in her hand. "…Do it hurt?"

"No, going on the potty doesn't hurt." I walk her into the bathroom and luckily for us, there's not a line. I pick the handicap stall just so we have enough room to maneuver around inside of it. I lock the stall behind us and take her lollipop from her. I put it on top of the paper towel dispenser, with the sucker part hanging off the edge so no germs get on it. Maybe she's not ready to go on the potty but I just think it's a little crazy that she's four and still in diapers. She needs to be exposed to the potty at least. Alex can't take her in the men's room so I might as well bring her with me. "Here, we're gonna pull your pants down." I pull her tutu down and the pair of purple shorts she has on underneath of it. I stick my finger into her pull-up to see if she's going to need a new one. She's still dry, which is good. She might actually have to pee. I pull down her pull-up too. "Here, let me pick you up."

"No Doedoe…no." She starts whining at me a little bit. "No no…no potty."

"Yes potty." I put one of my arms underneath her legs, where they fold and hold her around her back with my other arm. I bend down a little bit so she's hovering over the toilet bowl but I'm just going to hold her. I'm not letting her sit down on these seats. "Go potty. Go pee."

"I get daddy…no potty." She's squirming around.

"Lyla, go potty. It's okay, I promise. It's okay. Just go potty, I promise it's okay. Go pee." She's still whining. "Just go honey. Just go…pee. Act like you have your diaper on and go pee."

"Dada…"

"Daddy can't come in here. It's the girls' bathroom so Jojo has to be in here with you." She really needs to go. My arms are getting tired of dangling her over the seat. "You'll be such a big girl if you go pee pee in the potty. Such a big girl." She looks down between her legs and I start to hear the sound of pee hitting the toilet water below. "ALRIGHT!" I crack the biggest smile. I can't believe she's peeing in the potty! She's still going too! She really had to pee! There's a little bit of pee trickling down my arm but it doesn't bother me much. I feel like such a proud mother and she's not even my baby! She's peeing in the potty! "All done?" I ask her and she nods her head. "Good job girl!" I put her down on the floor and grab some toilet paper. I wipe my arm off from where she peed on me and toss it into the toilet. I grab another wad of toilet paper and bawl it up. "I told you it didn't hurt. I'm so proud of you for pee peeing like a big girl." I tap her kneecap so she knows to open her legs and I wipe her real good. I pull her diaper and her pants back up. "I'm so proud of you. Gimme a big hug." I hold my arms out. She's smiling so I know she's proud of herself as well. "Hugs?" She wraps her arms around me. "See? I knew you could do it." I squeeze her and rock from side to side. I'm so very proud of her. "You're such a big girl."

"It not even hurt, Doedoe." She steps back and looks at her pee in the toilet. "It not hurt." She puts her hands on my cheeks. "You was wight, it not hurt."

"I know. You're so big." She smashes my cheeks into a fish face and I wiggle my lips to imitate a real fish, which makes her giggle. She puckers her lips and I think she's imitating a fish too, but I was wrong. She actually kisses me on the cheek. "Awww, thank you baby." She's never kissed me on the cheek before…she's never kissed me at all. Does that mean she's comfortable with me? She kissed me. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like I'm Alex and she's giving me kisses like she does when he asks her too, except I didn't ask.

I've been getting a lot of kisses lately.