“I’m sorry,” Cole says, exhaustion clear on his face. “I know I told you you could rest—I just—She won’t calm down.”

He’s talking about the screaming baby in his arms. His daughter—your daughter, Lord, he can’t believe you two have a kid—has been throwing a tantrum for the last thirty minutes. He’s running on an hour of sleep, too much caffeine, and willpower. Cole hadn’t wanted to bother you. He wanted to prove he can handle her himself, but he can’t. It makes him feel like a terrible dad.