The first days were awkward. Ms. Blackwood treated the house like a guest in a cathedral,careful, reverent, always hovering just beyond the edge of offense. Arden slept most of the time, and when she did, I watched from the doorway, my hands crossed over my chest, my jaw tight. I was supposed to be indifferent, I told myself. This arrangement was for the child. Nothing more.But she had a way of moving through my home, arranging blankets, checking bottles, wiping little noses with a patience I didn’t possess, that I didn’t want to possess. Every careful movement, every soft word she muttered to Arden, was a deliberate stroke at my defenses.“I thought she might be cold,” she said one evening, adjusting the baby’s swaddle. “So I put an extra layer on her.”I didn’t answer, though the words dug in. My teeth clenched as I walked past, murmuring, “She’s fine.”“You don’t need to hover, Draven,” she said softly, following me into the hall. Her voice wasn’t pleading, not exactly—but it carr
Huling Na-update : 2025-10-30 Magbasa pa