[ELARA'S POV]
Three months.
That's how long it had been since Isla was born.
Three months of sleepless nights. Endless feedings. Diapers. Spit up. Crying.
So much crying.
I loved her. God, I loved her more than I thought possible.
But I was exhausted.
The kind of exhausted that went bone deep. That made everything feel harder. Slower. Like I was moving through water.
Damian helped. More than most men would, probably. He did night feedings when he could. Changed diapers without complaint. Walked her around at three am when she wouldn't settle.
But he also had Voss Corp to run. Meetings. Deals. Responsibilities that couldn't wait.
So most days, it was just me and Isla.
And I was drowning.
I woke up to crying.
Again.
The clock said 2:47 am.
Isla had been fed at midnight. Changed at one. This was probably gas. Or she just wanted to be held.
I dragged myself out of bed. Every muscle protesting.
Damian stirred beside me.
