"She's beautiful, son," my mom says, wiping her eyes. "And doing so remarkably well."
"For a baby delivered five weeks early, you mean," I sneer, anger and self-loathing ripping me apart.
"Edward." Her voice cracks, and it nearly does me in. "You can't think like that. Masie is going to need you."
"I know, mom." Tears run down my cheeks. "But living is hard right now."
"It'll be a little bit easier tomorrow," she says softly.
"I don't know if I can do it."
"Look at her," she insists.
I do.
Her eyes are open.
Brown.
Soulful.
Bella's.
Our daughter.
Friday :)
