"That's a good girl," I coo at my amazing five-week-old as she sucks the formula in her bottle. "Daddy's so proud of you."
This wasn't the plan.
Breast is best, Bella used to say.
But nothing is how we planned.
Her tiny fingers wrap around my pinky, and my heart flips.
Masie keeps me alive.
Fuels the will to live.
She coughs, and I set the bottle aside, bringing her to my shoulder.
Pat.
Pat.
Pat.
Buuuurp.
I wipe milk from her lips.
And beam.
She's so fucking pretty.
Tears prick.
I wish Bella could see.
My phone trills. "Jake?"