Chapter 97
Once the shots were done, the rest of Avery's four month checkup wasn't so bad. Dr. Cillian weighed her and measured her, bent her arms and legs see how well those important joints were functioning, and then started doing this exam on her hips that Clarke hadn't even known had been necessary.
"So you said we don't have to come back next month?" Bellamy asked the doctor.
"No, not unless something unexpected comes up." Dr. Cillian gently pulled on Avery's thighs, like he was testing out how well her hips were fitting in the socket. "You guys have done a good job keeping to her vaccination schedule, and everything I'm examining indicates she's well within the normal parameters for a baby her age. Sounds like she might even be developing a little earlier than most if she's already lifting her head and reaching for things a lot."
Bellamy smirked proudly and said to Clarke, "I told you she's a prodigy."
"Yeah, she almost rolled over the other day, too," Clarke added. "She's gettin' close."
Dr. Cillian handed Avery back to Clarke and said, "Everything checks out on the hip exam."
"Oh, good." So far, beyond the occasional runny nose and diaper rash, they hadn't had any issues with their baby. She felt bad for the parents who did, though.
"So what should we expect to see this month?" Bellamy inquired.
"You'll probably see her start pushing up on her elbows more and lifting her chest," Dr. Cillian replied. "And it sounds like she might start rolling over any day. Her mobility should just keep increasing from here on out. Now in terms of her brain development, there's a lot happening there, too."
"Meaning?" Clarke prompted, interested to know.
"Well, she's developing a sense of object permanence," the doctor said. "So she's starting to realize that, even if she can't see something, it's still there. Have you ever played peek-a-boo with her?"
"All the time," Bellamy said proudly. "It's my favorite game now."
"More than football?" Clarke teased.
"Please," he scoffed, "football can't hold a candle to peek-a-boo."
Dr. Cillian chuckled at their exchange. "She probably used to think you went away when you covered your face. Now she knows better," he said. "Try hiding a toy under a blanket sometime. She should start trying to grab it out from underneath."
"That'd be fun to try," Clarke said. They had to make sure to film some of these moments, too, because they were all going by so fast.
"She's also learning about cause and effect now," the doctor informed them. "So for example, she might understand that, if she cries, she'll get something she wants. She might even start having different cries for different emotions. She might sound different when she's hungry versus when she wants to play or when she's sleepy."
"Wow," Bellamy said.
"Yeah, pretty incredible, huh?"
It really was. Clarke looked down at the beautiful little girl in her arms, amazed that so much was changing and evolving with her every single day. "When do you think she'll start talking?" she asked.
"It's hard to say. You might start hearing some words around six months, or it might take longer. It just depends on the kid," Dr. Cillian answered. "She will probably start mimicking you a lot, though. Your speech, your facial expressions. She'll smile a lot, too, especially at people."
"She's always smiled a lot," Clarke said.
"Happy baby, huh?"
"Yep." She nudged Bellamy and said, "She smiles at you the most."
"You think?"
"Yeah." She definitely had a special smile for him, too. It was the most precious thing to see.
"Some things that you might do to try to keep stimulating that cognitive development . . ." Dr. Cillian said. "Keep reading to her. Lots of shapes and color stories. Some books even come with textures for the kids to feel. Those are great. And if you have one of those bouncy seats with the hanging toys they can interact with . . . they love those."
"We should get one," Bellamy said.
How expensive were they? To be honest, she didn't even care. Her baby was getting older, so her baby deserved a bouncy seat.
"Lay her down on a play mat and let her roam a little bit," Dr. Cillian suggested. "See what she reaches for, see how she starts getting from place to place."
"Is she gonna start crawling?" Clarke asked eagerly. The other night, she'd fallen into a hole on YouTube watching videos of babies crawling for the first time, and it'd gotten her really excited to see Avery do the same.
"That typically happens between six to ten months," the doctor said. "But again, you never know. Each kid's unique."
"Six to ten months," Bellamy echoed. "That's gonna be here before we know it."
"Yeah," she agreed. Time was flying by. "What about, um . . . the feeding situation?" she asked, knowing she needed to bring it up, even though she hated talking about it with anyone but Bellamy.
"Has that been going well?" Dr. Cillian asked.
"Yeah, it has been. Until recently," she admitted. "This last week or so, it's gotten kinda difficult. I don't feel like there's as much milk . . . you know, in there."
The doctor nodded. "Okay. Have you been feeding less often?"
"No."
"Because sometimes the easiest way to stimulate more milk production is simply to feed more."
Every website she'd checked had said that same thing, but it didn't make sense to her. "I don't feel like I've changed anything," she said. "So why is this happening?"
"Well, it could be that your body's just gearing up to start your menstrual cycle again."
"My menstrual cycle?" she resounded, freaked out by the thought of that. Breastfeeding had been a nice form of a birth control. If that period came back, though, she and Bellamy were going to have to discuss what they wanted to use for protection. "But I've been exclusively breastfeeding, so shouldn't that still be suppressed?" she inquired.
"Typically, but not always. Every mom's unique, just like every kid is," Dr. Cillian told her. "We can never completely predict how a woman's body will respond after pregnancy. Now even if you do start ovulating again, you can still breastfeed. You just might notice a decrease in your milk supply. You might have to start pumping, or you might consider adding some formula into her diet."
"Formula?" That wasn't as nutritious, though, and she wanted the best nutrients for her baby. "I wanna do it all myself."
"But if you can't, though, then that's an option," Bellamy said. "Right?"
"Yes," the doctor confirmed.
She sighed, not exactly loving the thought of that.
"It's okay," Bellamy assured her, rubbing her back. He'd been so understanding about all of this, even though, as a man, he couldn't really understand.
"I had a full-on breakdown about this the other night," she told the doctor.
"It's an emotional thing for many women," he reassured her. "It's also possible, with the developmental trajectory she seems to be on, that she's just getting ready to start solid foods."
"What?" Clarke shrieked. "Already?" No, it was too soon for that. Way too soon.
"Is she even old enough for that?" Bellamy asked.
"I like to encourage baby-led feeding," Dr. Cillian said. "Basically what that means is that you have to watch for cues from her that might indicate she's ready. For instance, if she's opening her mouth when food is nearby, sort of like a baby bird, then that might be a sign. If she's reaching for food or mimicking the way you two eat, you might put some pureed fruits or veggies on a spoon, set it in front of her, and see if she tries it. If she does, then she's telling you she's ready, and if she doesn't, then she's telling you she wants to wait. Now, things I look for as a pediatrician prior to starting her on solid foods are her ability to hold her head up and her body weight. She's doubled her body weight from birth at this point, so . . ."
So she might be done with me, Clarke thought disappointedly. And over-dramatically. She knew, deep down, that she was being over-dramatic. She wasn't about to just give up on breastfeeding, though, so she said, "I know after she was born, I was able to talk to a lactation consultant," she said. "Is that something I could do now, too?"
"Sure," Dr. Cillian said. "In fact, ours is here today. I can see if she's able to come have a conversation with you."
"That'd be great. Thanks."
"I'll be right back." He ducked out of the room, and Clarke waited until he was gone to dab at the corners of her eyes. No crying, not today. But she was still a little emotional about the whole thing.
"Well, does that make you feel better?" Bellamy asked her.
"No. She's growing up so fast. Before you know it, she'll be walking and talking and . . . and she won't need me anymore."
"Hey, you're her mom," he reminded her. "She's always gonna need you."
Clarke thought about her own relationship with her mom, and how she still, even at the age of twenty-two, needed her in her life. They hadn't even always had the easiest bond, but . . . she still needed her mom. "You're right," she said. "And the walking and talking . . . that'll be pretty awesome."
"Yeah," Bellamy agreed. "What do you think her first word's gonna be?"
"Daddy," she replied without missing a beat. "Or Da-da."
"Really? Not Mama?" he teased.
"No, the M sound's so hard to make. Plus, we both know she's a Daddy's girl." If her first word was anything else, Clarke was gonna be shocked.
The door opened again, and Dr. Cillian peeked his head back in. "Alright, she can be in here in about thirty minutes if you have a little time to wait."
"Oh, crap, I gotta be at the school," Bellamy said. "The bus is leaving then."
"That's okay."
He took out his phone and said, "No, I'll just call Miller and tell him-"
"Bellamy, it's fine. It's your first game. The team needs you. I'll wait, you go."
He groaned reluctantly. "You sure?"
"Yeah, I'll just wait 'til my mom leaves and get a ride home with her. She put that car seat in the back of her car now, so . . . we're good."
He sighed reluctantly and agreed to it. "Okay. Thanks, Dr. Cillian."
"Good to see you again," the doctor said, once again shutting the door.
"You sure you don't want me to stay?" Bellamy asked her.
"Yeah, you should go. You've got a job to do. Besides, this is kind of my issue that I have to work out. I'll let you know what she says when we get home, though."
"Alright. I love you." He bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"Love you, too." She held Avery up so he could give her a kiss, too.
Once Bellamy had left, Clarke sat down in the chair next to the exam table and took a toy out of Avery's baby bag. Avery didn't pay much attention to it, though. She squirmed around in Clarke's arms, trying to look at the door her father had just walked out of.
"Isn't it nice to have Daddy back?" Clarke said to her. He was making this whole situation so much more bearable for her.
...
Clarke waited until cheer practice was over and all the girls but Raven had left to walk into the gym. "The girls look good," she commented. Peering through the doorway, she'd been able to catch their last run-through of their state routine.
"We've got a lot of work to do," Raven said as she packed up her cheer bag. "You know, the person who usually stood next to me in formation isn't there anymore, so someone else has to step it up."
Clarke took the jab, knowing she deserved it for being a bitch last week.
"Sorry," Raven said. "Not trying to guilt-trip you. I know you just think cheer's a waste of time now."
"I don't. I don't know why I even said that the other day." She sat down, glanced towards the door to the boys locker room, and decided to tell the truth. Or at least part of it. "No, that's a lie. Actually, I do. I snapped at you because I've been a mess ever since Bellamy left. It's been really hard, and I just haven't been myself."
Raven looked at Clarke sympathetically, stopped packing up, and sat down beside her. "Yeah, I get that," she said. "I mean, things haven't exactly been smooth sailing with Zeke ever since he started college."
Clarke frowned. They hadn't? What was going on?
"I haven't told you about it because I know you're dealing with your own stuff," Raven said.
"No, you can, though," Clarke assured her, hating that she'd been so selfish and wrapped up in her own world. "I'm your best friend. You're supposed to be able to talk to me about things."
"You just haven't seemed like my best friend this year," Raven admitted. "Which is fine. Like I said, I understand that you're going through things."
"Yeah, but so are you." Clarke felt incredibly guilty. She hadn't even realized that Raven and Zeke had been having any issues. "I wanna be here for you. I am. I'm here right now," she said. "Your best friend is back. So tell me anything."
Raven's shoulders slumped, and she looked down at the ground. "Well, I just know he's been talking to this girl in his astronomy class. He says they're just friends, but . . . I don't know, the other night, I called, and he was hanging out with her. He said they were studying, but . . . what if they're not studying, you know?"
The thought of the high school golden couple going through tough times was a little mind-boggling, because Clarke had never seen them even disagree about anything before. Which was why she had a hard time believing that he would ever be unfaithful. "Raven, Zeke loves you," she reminded her. "He would never cheat on you."
"I hope not," Raven said. "And I wanna trust him. I do. I do trust him. I guess I just don't trust him as much as I thought I did, and . . . well, that's kind of alarming."
"Have you talked to him about it?" Clarke asked her.
"Not yet. You think I should?"
"Probably." Clarke felt like she was probably the world's worst person to go to for relationship advice, but just because she'd fucked up her own relationship, that didn't mean she was incapable of helping Raven hold onto hers. "If you have concerns, you should address them. Otherwise they're just gonna fester and grow."
Raven made a face. "Yuck."
"What?"
"That word: fester. That sounds gross."
Clarke laughed.
"Yeah, I don't want my concerns to do that," Raven said.
"So talk to him about it."
She nodded. "Yeah, I think I will. Thanks, Clarke. Nice to have my bestie back."
I'm not back, Clarke thought. Not completely. There was still so much going on with her that Raven wouldn't know, that she would never know. She was going to have to do a better job of hiding it, though, otherwise her remaining year and a half of high school was going to be lonely and miserable.
"So what about you?" Raven asked.
"Oh, we don't need to talk about me." She'd had a decent day. A girl she didn't know had stopped her in the hall and randomly thanked her for getting the anonymous sexual harassment reporter up and running.
"I'm here for you just like you're here for me," Raven reminded her. "And as your best friend, I think you should call Bellamy. Or text him. Something. Or, here's a thought, hang out with him over Christmas break, see if the spark's still there."
"I—I can't," Clarke stammered. "We're going out of town."
"Again?"
"Yeah. Thanksgiving with my dad's family, Christmas with my mom's." She didn't exactly know how they were going to handle summer vacation, when Bellamy came home for much longer stretches of time. They'd have to cross that bridge when they came to it.
"So you're gonna be gone . . . for the entire break?" Raven asked, cocking her head to the side in confusion. "You know, Bellamy's in college. Their breaks are pretty long," she pointed out. "I'm sure you guys could at least find one day to hang out together."
No, they couldn't. If she even saw him face to face, even just once, she was pretty sure she'd break down, maybe even tell him everything. Hell, sometimes she even felt close to telling Raven everything. Like right now. This was a nice little heart-to-heart they were having. It would've been the perfect time to open up to her.
But she wasn't going to.
"Teach me part of your dance," she blurted, standing up and taking her jacket off.
"Way to change the subject."
"I'm serious. I miss cheer sometimes," she said, doing a few arm stretches as she walked out onto the gym floor. "Teach me something."
Raven got up and came to stand beside her, and with the prospect of doing some cheer stuff with Clarke now back on the table, she seemed content to lay off the Bellamy thing. "Okay, well, can you still do a toe-touch?" she asked.
"Guess we'll find out," Clarke said, trying to just focus on this and be in the moment. Because so far this year, she'd been so disconnected from everyone else that all the moments were just passing her by.
...
After her meeting with the lactation consultant, Clarke went into her mom's office to wait for her to get off work. Hopefully she wouldn't have to work too late, because it was going to take thirty minutes to get to Polis for the game.
While she waited, she got a text from Raven asking how the appointment had gone. She texted back Avery's height and weight, as well as Dr. Cillian's comments about how it seemed like she was on a faster developmental track than most kids usually were. Raven's response was simply Genius.
For the next fifteen or so minutes, they texted about the game tonight, with Raven apologizing for not being able to go. Clarke assured her that it was okay, and she said she hoped she could come to some of the home games. Raven promised that she would, and that was the end of the texts until five minutes later when Clarke got a weird one from her. It asked, Are you and Bellamy good?
Clarke frowned, wondering where that had come from. She started typing out a text in response, but she was so caught off guard by the question that she decided to call instead. Instead of saying hello to answer, Raven said, "I only ask because Murphy might have hinted that things were a little . . . tense lately."
"Murphy," Clarke muttered, shaking her head. What did she expect, though? Murphy and Raven were in love just like she and Bellamy were. Of course they talked about things. "No, we're fine," she said. "I mean, things were kind of weird for a while there, but that was only 'cause of the Finn situation. But that's better now. Things are good again. We're back on track."
"Good," Raven said. "Good. That's the way it's supposed to be."
For sure, Clarke thought. She'd never really doubted that they would get back on track. Life had already torn them apart once, for years. They weren't gonna let that happen again.
...
Bellamy wasn't a religious man by any means, but he wasn't above praying for a win that night. The first game of the season was pivotal. It set the stage and the morale level for the rest of the season.
"You think they're ready?" Miller asked.
"I think they're nervous." Nerves weren't necessarily a bad thing, though. As long as they could keep a handle on them, nerves could light a fire under the players, and that was what they needed.
"Yeah, they look a little stiff." Miller said. He motioned to the bleachers and said, "Hey, look, there's your girl."
Bellamy turned around, glad to see that Clarke had made it and that she was finding a seat. She was with his mom and Octavia, and Avery, of course.
"All your girls," Miller corrected. "You got a whole fan club up there."
He smiled, noting that Octavia had a bright green sign that said Our coach is better than yours, his mom was wearing an old team shirt from his senior year of high school, and Clarke and Avery were donning their jerseys again. Seeing them all there just for him, to support him, made him feel like one damn lucky man.
...
"Woo!" Clarke exclaimed, jumping up and down excitedly. Bellamy's eyes got wider as he watched her because . . . well, jumping made her tits bounce. "First game, first win," she said, thrusting a pretend microphone under his face. "How do you feel, Coach Blake?"
"I feel good, he said. "Relieved. The pressure's on, you know? Everyone expects me to do great things with this team."
"And you are. You are doing great things," she said, taking a step back. She grabbed the bottom of her jersey and lifted it up a bit, flirtatiously asking, "Are you ready for your victory celebration?"
It was so late, and he was so tired, but he was ready for anything. "What do you have planned?"
"I don't know." She lifted the jersey up over her head and dropped it on the floor. "It's up to you."
He was down for a quick, hard fuck, but given how she'd requested the slow, romantic kind of sex the other night, he thought she might want something a little more tender. "You wanna go slow, or . . ."
"I just wanna be with you," she said, taking her jeans off seductively. "So how do you want me?"
How didn't he want her? Her body was looking curvier and sexier than ever, and she was obviously feeling frisky. "Alright, let's do face down, ass in the air," he decided.
"Okay, then." She climbed onto the bed and got into that position, wriggling her ass around for him. He walked up behind her, hooked his hands into the sides of her panties, and slid them down over her backside. Clarke lifted her knees to help him remove them, and when he got a glimpse of her pussy and saw that she was already a little wet, his first thought was that he had to taste her.
"Actually . . . wait a minute," he said, quickly ridding himself of his shirt and pants. He stumbled out of his underwear and lay down sideways on the bed. "Come here," he said, motioning her over. She started to turn around, but he said, "No, stay like that. Just . . ." He rubbed his cock a bit, grinning.
"Ooh," she said, understanding what he was getting at. She climbed on top of him in the reverse cowgirl position, then backed her ass up towards his face. "We don't do this enough," she said, leaning forward.
"No, we don't," he agreed, wrapping his arms around her legs so he could pull her back further. She settled on his face, and he began to lick and lap at her pussy greedily. At the same time, she lowered her mouth onto his cock, taking in a lot of it right from the start. The combination of having his cock sucked while he was tasting her sent volts of pleasure through his whole body. "You taste so good," he whispered, and his breath made her quiver. He pressed a few sucking kisses to her lower lips, then flattened his tongue and started giving her some long licks up and down her folds. All the while, her tongue was working wonders down on his cock, swirling around the head of it, licking from the base to the tip. She always ended up going back to straight up sucking, though, opening her whole mouth, bobbing her head up and down as she got damn near close to deep-throating him.
He put his hands on her ass cheeks, spreading them open so he could lick all the way up to that hole, too. When she felt that, she moaned, and that moan vibrated around his cock. He felt it twitch in her mouth, and he worried he was cumming already, but luckily, he didn't. Sixty-nining with her was so fucking arousing, though, that he couldn't do it for long.
Giving her ass a gentle spank, he stopped eating her out and suggested, "Maybe you should ride me."
She released his cock with a loud pop, looked back at him, and agreed, "Maybe I should. You want me to?"
"Yeah."
She turned around to face him, teased him a bit by letting his cock slide up between her ass cheeks, and unhooked her bra. Then, she lifted her hips, grabbed his cock with one hand, and held it steady as she sank down onto it. He groaned, shutting his eyes for a moment as he savored the feeling. Fucking Clarke without a condom felt so damn good. If she did start getting her period again, he hoped they could use some other type of birth control so he didn't have to go back to wearing one.
"You're spoilin' me tonight," he said as she began to ride him. "I don't even have the candles lit."
"This isn't the candle kind of sex," she said, reaching down to grab his hands. Much to his surprise, she brought both of them up to her breasts.
"Oh, I get to play with these, huh?" he said, gently cupping and squeezing them.
"Massaging's supposed to help out my situation, so . . ."
Did she need a professional boob massager? He could definitely be that. "I got you covered," he assured her, rolling her soft flesh around beneath his fingertips. God, he'd missed playing with her tits. They were so fucking incredible.
"Mmm," she purred, throwing her head back as she continued to bounce up and down on top of him. "God, Bellamy."
It made him feel good to see how totally into this she was. They'd had some sex in recent weeks that had been . . . pretty self-serving on his part. She'd definitely be getting off on this, though. Her pussy was already glistening with a mixture of her arousal and his saliva, and that look on her face was one of pure pleasure.
Taking his hands off her breasts just long enough to wrap his arms around her, he flipped their positions so that he was on top. She gasped as he started thrusting into her harder, and he lost himself in the feel of her surrounding him. Everything else faded away as he fucked her. Everything else always did.
...
Since Avery had gotten sleepy during Finn's Sunday visit, Clarke decided to clue him in to a couple of the things they'd accomplished at all the checkups. While he didn't need to know everything—didn't need to know anything about the ongoing feeding situation—she felt like he might at least want to know that they were getting her vaccinated, so she showed him a copy of her immunization records.
"So these are all the shots she's had?" he said as he looked it over.
"Yeah. Some of the vaccines had multiple shots, so . . ." It was a long list for a little baby, but there were some babies with health defects who unfortunately needed to be poked and prodded even more than that.
"Ow," he said, grimacing.
"Yeah. She's been a trooper, though." Clarke looked into the crib, watching her adoringly as she slept.
"Well, thanks for making sure she's gotten all of these," Finn said. "I don't know if I've ever said it, but you've done a really good job handling everything."
With a shrug, she said, "Learning as I go."
He looked down into the crib, too, and took on a super serious tone when he said, "I really regret making you do it all alone."
She gave him a perplexed look. Was this his attempt at an apology? If so, it disregarded one very important thing. "I'm not alone," she reminded him. "I have Bellamy."
...
Bellamy pulled down the triceps bar, shooting Miller an annoyed look when he finally came into the gym. "You're late."
"Yeah, sorry," his friend said.
He shook his head, frustrated that he hadn't shown up on time. "You can't be late on Sundays. You can't be late, man."
"Dude, I was sexting with a potential new boyfriend," Miller said in defense of himself.
"Okay, I don't really need that much detail."
"Well, just wanted you to understand."
Bellamy got up from the triceps machine and walked over to the punching bags, forgoing gloves as he landed a few swings. Miller side-eyed him as he loaded up the bench press and asked, "Are you takin' out some rage over there or what?"
"Not really." They'd won their game on Friday, and he'd had great sex with his wife the past two nights. What did he have to be enraged about? "I'm just pretending it's Finn's face," he admitted. As good as things had been going, that guy still existed, and that guy was still coming over to his house every week, and that fucking guy was still spending time with Avery when he didn't even deserve to.
"This is week number four, right?" Miller said.
"Yep." Still so many weeks to go.
Miller's outlook was more optimistic. "Hey, you're almost halfway through then. That's good. You're gonna have those adoption papers in front of you before you know it."
He wished he had them in front of him right now. He would have signed without any hesitation. "That's all I want," he said, landing another forceful swing on the punching bag.
...
As much as she hated to do it, Clarke had to finally break out the breast pump machine she'd impulsively ordered off of Amazon back during the second trimester, when she hadn't been sure if she'd wanted to breastfeed or not. It had all these separate parts and didn't come pre-assembled at all. And if there was an instruction manual, she hadn't kept it, so now she was left with suction cups and tubes and . . . where were the massage pads? Weren't these kinds of things supposed to come with massage pads?
When Bellamy walked in the door, she couldn't even get up to go see him, because she had all the separate pieces of the machine strewn across her lap. "Hey, husband," she greeted him.
"Hey." He still had his gym clothes on and was carrying a bottle of water in one hand, a grocery sack in the other. "What is that, some kind of science experiment?"
"It's a breast pump," she said, demonstrating how the cup was supposed to fit around her nipple. "I'm breaking down and using it. The well's still a little dry up there."
"Do what you gotta do, right?" he said, heading into the kitchen.
"I guess." She tilted her head and looked suspiciously at the suction cup, not sure how this thing was supposed to get any more milk out of her than her own infant could. It just didn't seem natural. "Did you stop and get the baby food?" she asked him.
"Yeah." He held up two small jars before putting them in the cabinet.
"Not that I think she's ready for that yet," Clarke said. "It's just to have on hand, just in case. I'm gonna keep feeding her, though."
"You got this."
"Yes, I do."
After he was done putting the grocery items away, he came into the living room, took a swig from his water bottle, and sat down on the coffee table. "You want some help with that?" he offered.
"Sure. Are you an expert?"
He chuckled. "I mean . . . I like boobs. Spent plenty of time suckin' on yours, so . . ."
"Yeah, I think I'm gonna figure this out myself, though," she decided. "You'll just get horny and distracted."
"Yeah, probably." A different kind of distraction sounded from upstairs when Avery began to cry out. IT wasn't super loud or anything. Without the baby monitor on her phone, they probably wouldn't have heard it.
"That doesn't sound like a hungry cry," Clarke said.
"No, that's a Daddy cry. She wants her daddy." Bellamy shot to his feet and shouted, "I'm coming, Princess!" as he raced upstairs.
She laughed and shook her head at his dramatics, although who was she kidding? That was adorable.
Frustrated with the whole pumping mechanism, she set it aside and decided she'd look at it again later, maybe after watching a few YouTube videos where moms or nurses demonstrated how it was done. She just felt like, once she made that decision to use a machine, the feeding experience between her and Avery would never quite feel the same. And she wasn't sure if she was ready for that. But then again, she had to keep her baby fed, one way or another.
She reached for the water bottle Bellamy had left downstairs, feeling a bit too lazy to get up and go to the sink to fill up a glass. She thought nothing of drinking from his bottle as she unscrewed the top and brought it up to her mouth. Thought nothing of it until the liquid hit her lips.
She froze with it still in her mouth, shocked and dumbfounded. For some reason, she felt reluctant to swallow, but when she did, there could be no doubt as to what she was tasting.
That wasn't water.