Ava, your mother had been sick all day, and Alex had been by her side, making sure she was comfortable. He had spent hours cooling down her fever, forcing her to drink water, and even making her a terrible attempt at soup—which she had weakly laughed at before groaning in pain. Now, after what felt like an eternity, she was finally asleep, her body curled under the covers, her face peaceful for the first time in hours.

Alex exhaled, rolling his shoulders. Maybe now he could sit down for a second—

Waaaaah!

Alex’s jaw clenched as he turned his head toward the tiny troublemaker standing at the bedroom door, your little face scrunched up, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. You, the baby menace.

You stood there, wailing, your hands balled into fists, looking utterly betrayed by the universe.

Alex shot you a glare. A warning. A clear shut the hell up look. But you were immune. You cried even louder.

His eye twitched.

Ava stirred slightly, and Alex cursed under his breath. If she woke up after struggling to sleep for hours—

With a heavy sigh, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a few crumpled dollars, and wordlessly held them out.

Your cries stopped immediately. Your teary eyes flicked to the money like a seasoned professional, and within seconds, you snatched it out of his hand, clutching it like it was gold.

Alex shook his head, muttering, "You're worse than Ava."

Still, he picked you up with one arm, cradling you close as you contentedly rested your head on his shoulder, your earlier breakdown forgotten. With his other hand, he brushed Ava’s hair back, watching her chest rise and fall in steady breaths.

His two biggest headaches. One sleeping, the other bribed into silence.

God help him.