I'm posting an unfinished The Bear, accidental pregnancy Carmy/Syd fic here in hopes for adoption bc I don't know where to go with it and the last I posted an unfinished fic on ao3 I went blind for 20 minutes in one eye so now I'm legitimately afraid of a fake curse lol.
Anyway, here's the first 4 chapters. It starts the night of the Ever Funeral, where Carmy finds his way to Syd's afterparty
What the fuck am I doing here? The plastic bag crinkled as he flexed his hand around it’s loop. He stared at the buzzbox for the apartment and as he considered walking away, the door pushed open, just barely missing him as he jumped back. Stumbling over the edge of the landing.
“Ah, shit, sorry mate!” The tall man slurred, holding the door open for the young woman behind him. Luca. His blue eyes were bleary looking, but seemed to clear a touch. Widening when he recognized Carmy. “Carmy! I didn’t think you were going to make it, mate.”
“Me neither,” Carmy mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “Is, uh, is the party over?”
“Yeah, but Syd’s still awake if you want to say hi?”
Carmy felt caught out. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll do that. See you later?”
“Of course, tell Marcus I said hi when you see him.”
“Yeah, sure thing.” Luca gave his shoulder a clap and Carmy made his way up the stairs towards Syd’s apartment.
_______________________________________________________________
The door was cracked, just barely, but Carmy decided to walk through. Quietly closing it behind him. He walked down the hallway and looked around her living room. It was mostly empty with boxes in the corner and single L shaped couch placed in front of the TV situated on a stack of boxes sitting side by side. In the windows she already had a collection of house plants and on the floor he could spot colorful prints leaning against the wall. Syd left such a unique evidence of life on everything she touched. Like Hyacinth in the Spring and Jasmine in the Summer. He smiled, despite himself.
Walking further in to the apartment he could hear the shuffling sounds of a trash bag accompanying the occasional sniffle. He followed it into the kitchen where he saw Sydney stuffing pizza boxes and plastic cups into the bag. Her hands were shaking.
She jumped, nearly dropping the bag. Carmy took a step into the kitchen and she momentarily turned her back to him. Putting the bag in the corner and quickly swiping her eyes. “Oh, uh - fuck - hey Carm. How’d you get in?”
“Your door was unlocked.”
“Oh, yeah, I would’ve invited you in person, except you know, you fucked off somewhere so . . .”
Carmy froze up, his nervous system still fried from his encounter with Chef Fields. “I’m sorry, Syd. I shouldn’t have ran out without saying anything. It was fucked.”
Syd nodded silently, pulling her upper lip through her teeth. “Where’d you go?”
He scratched at the edge of his hairline before dragging the hand through his hair. “I-uh, i-i ran into my old chef . . .”
Whispers of all of the foul things Chef Fields had hissed into his ears flooded back to his mind. Carmy shook them away with the ruffling of his hair. “Yeah. He was an ass. The biggest.” He licked his top lip. “I guess I thought it would, you know, clear things up for me or something but, uh, didn’t work out like that.”
Syd stared at him, her eyes flicking over his face and trembling hands. He crossed his arms tightly. “Sometimes the people who are supposed to give us answers just,” she shrugged one shoulder, “ . . . don’t? Like there’s not always an actual, legit, reason for why they do it.”
“ . . . yeah, yeah,” he said with an absent sort of nod. “So, um, you good?” he tried again. “Looked like you were-”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing. Long day. You know how it is.”
Carmy unfortunately, did know how it was. “If you want me to go . . .” he offered, jutting his thumb over her shoulder.
“No, no it’s fine, you can stay. You want soda or something?”
She reached into the fridge and pulled out a cold Coke, handed it to him, then leaned against the counter. They stared at each other before Syd squeezed at the side of her temples with her middle and pointer fingers, before folding her hands over her face. “Sometimes I wonder if we’re fucking it all up.” They were so mumbled that it almost sounded like she hadn’t meant to say them aloud.
“Fucking what up?” Carmy asked, his brow furrowing.
“The restaurant- The Bear. I don’t know everything?” She turned back to face him, the paper towel crumpled in her fist. “Like it just feels like it’s all going to fall apart.”
Carmy set his can down on the counter. “It won’t.”
“You don’t know that.” Her voice had an edge now. “You can’t know that.”
“I told you, I won’t let it.”
“You say a lot of stuff,” She mumbled. Carmy’s chin tucked back and he could feel his neck heating up. Syd avoided his eyes. “It’s like . . . I don’t know. There’s this gap.”
“In creativity and spending and you and-“ she hesitated, “-everyone.”
Carmy’s jaw tightened. “I’m trying to make sure we get it right.”
“By shutting everyone out?”
“By focusing.” He took a step closer. “Syd, if you want a star, this is how you do it. This- This is the work.”
She looked at him, and something inside her cracked open. “I don’t care about the fucking star if it means feeling like this. If it means you disappearing into your head and me wondering if we’re even still . . .” She trailed off, realizing how much she was revealing.
“Partners.” She swallowed. “A team?”
Carmy was quiet for a long moment, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean- I don’t want that.”
He stepped closer, and Sydney could smell the faint scent of smoke still clinging to his clothes. “I want us to be good. You and me.”
The walls between them were quickly crumbling as Carmy’s eyes locked onto hers.
“Carmy-“ she started, but whatever she was going to say fizzled away when his hand came up to touch her face. Her skin was warm, and so soft compared to his fingers, callused from years of knives and burns. She leaned into it
“I won’t let us fail,” he said, not sure if he meant the restaurant or something else entirely. “I promise.”
And then he was kissing her. Or maybe she was kissing him. It didn’t really matter. All he knew was that his brain was blissfully blank for the first time in months. He pressed his mouth as softly as he could for how urgent it felt, like she might flee from him at any moment. She tasted like Coke, freezer pizza, and maybe the remnants of wine. Sydney’s hands found his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt and causing him to stumble even closer to her. His hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into the silky fabric of her black dress.
The kiss deepened, and Sydney felt herself backing up until she hit the counter. Carmy’s hands were everywhere - lifting her to the edge of the counter, at the nape of her neck, sliding over her hips and thighs.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Carmy rested his forehead against hers. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he said, voice rough.
Sydney’s heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it. “Yeah?” was all she could manage.
“Yeah.” His thumb traced her bottom lip, and she shivered. “Is that okay?” Instead of answering, she pulled him back to her.
At some point in the night, they both fell asleep on top of her covers in a mess of limbs and sweat. They could save the overthinking for one night.
Chapter Two: 7 Weeks and 3 Days
They don’t talk about it.
That morning had been easy enough to avoid it. With both of their phones blown up about The Bear’s less than spectacular review, they both scrambled out of bed and made their way to the restaurant as quickly as possible. Nervous about anything new coming in from Cicero.
After that, it had been relatively easy for Sydney to dodge Carmy, and his annoyingly hypnotizing eyes, outside of necessary work hours.
It’s weeks later, when Sydney begins to wake up feeling like she’s been hit by a delivery truck with her mouth tasting like pennies and old garlic. She drags herself to the bathroom, splashes water on her face.
“Just tired,” she mutters to herself, popping two Aspirin dry. “Just so fucking tired.”
But tired doesn’t really explain the way she snaps at Marcus when he asks a simple question about the day’s special. Or why she nearly bites Tina’s head off for dropping a saucepan. She’s always felt tired, that’s the name of the game in this industry, so what the fuck? Maybe this is it. The ulcers have somehow migrated to her brain in some insane medical feat just to screw her.
By the time Nat approaches her with raised eyebrows, Syd knows she’s been radiating a toxic cloud of irritability that’s overstayed it’s welcome in the kitchen, but she can’t seem to stem it. It’s like a chemical bomb in her head.
Nat takes a step back, surprise flickering across her face. “Nothing. Just checking if you need anything.”
“I need people to do their fucking jobs,” Syd mutters, turning back to the sauce she’s reducing.
Nat’s expression shifts from surprise to concern, but she says nothing more, holding up her hands in surrender as she goes back to the office. Ritchie following quickly behind her. Syd feels a pang of guilt that quickly dissolves into more irritation as Carmy catches her eyes across the kitchen.
She’s allowed to have a bad day. She’s allowed to be tired.
_________________________________________
The next day is so much worse than it has been. They’re testing a new dish. Something with delicate slices of raw fish and a fermented chili paste that Syd had been thinking about for weeks prior to Ever’s funeral.
It was going great until all of the component’s were placed together and one moment she’s plating, the next she’s racing toward the office with her hand clamped over her mouth.
She barely makes it to the trash can, collapsing to her knees as her body rejects everything she’s eaten that day - which wasn’t much. The shredded paper in the bin soaked as she clutched the edges of the can.
Thinking about what about her dish possibly could have caused this, makes another wave of nausea pass over her and she heaves again, eyes watering.
The door opens and closes quietly behind her. Syd doesn’t need to look up to know it’s Nat.
Syd spits into the trash can, trying to clear the acrid taste from her mouth. “It’s just, fuck-“ Another heave cuts off her words, but nothing comes up except bile. She gasps for air. “-stress, maybe?”
Nat’s lips twist to the side in a way that makes Syd’s already wrecked stomach twist. Without a word, Nat moves to the desk and pulls open the junk drawer, rummaging through pens, rubber bands, and takeout menus. Syd feels something poke against her arm and glances down, only to be interrupted by another violent heave into the basket. When she finally looks, she sees Nat holding out a white foil-covered rectangle.
“I don’t think I can handle like water, right now Nat. I don’t know, if I can do electrolyte coolaid or whatever-“ Syd manages, slumping against the side of the desk.
Nat screwed up her face in sympathy, with a knowing look in her eyes. “Babe, this isn’t for hydration. . . Kind of the opposite really.”
Syd looks up to Nat confused and takes the rectangle from her, her hands trembling slightly. She tears off the wrapping, half expecting some kind of gritty powdered medicine to fall out. Instead, the blue cape of a pregnancy test peeks out at her.
“What the fuck, Nat?” it comes out as a gasp as her body tries to vomit again, but there’s nothing left. Just dry heaves. Nat rubs small circles on her back.
“Sorry, but you’ve been weird as hell lately and, you know . . . ?”
“Luca told Marcus who told Richie that Carmy was at your place-“
“Ritchie said you two were awfully weird after that next day-
“It was the review.” Syd swipes at the cold sweat beading on her forehead. “Also, fuck Ritchie.“
“Just take the fucking test, Syd.”
Syd stared at Nat, who was looking at her like a wounded animal, then the blue lid from under the white foil. Her mind racing through the calendar. Her period had never been exactly regular with her tendency to stress her body rhythm out of whack. Fuck, nearly eight weeks since Ever Funeral. Then the review. They didn’t even consider protection. So fucking dumb.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she wished she would melt into the office floor, slip through an unseen crack and live with dust mites so she never has to face this. But, despite her wishes, she didn’t dissolve. So instead, Syd nodded and held out a hand for Nat to help her from the ground. Nat linked arms with Syd to keep her steady as they made way the bathroom with wobbly legs.
_______________________________________
Nat squeezed Syd’s hand as she entered the bathroom and closed the door lightly behind her. Breathing heavily, Syd pulls the test from her pocket with clumsy hands.
She peed on the stick, recapped the lid, and placed it right side down on the sink edge. Sitting on the closed toilet lid, she watches the clock on her phone tick over one minute, then two. Her heartbeat pounding in her ears is only making make her stomach continue to churn with acid. When she stands and reaches for the test, her hands are shaking so badly that it slips from her grasp, clattering into the sink.
“Fuck,” she whispers, staring at it
There’s a soft knock at the door, “You good?”
Syd take a few deep breaths and creeps open the door enough to see Nat’s worried face. “What’s it say?” She asked.
She hates this. Feeling vulnerable and incapable. She especially hates that she ever had to pee on stick in The Bear bathroom and her coworker is the reason why. She crosses her arms tightly to hide her hands.
“Could-could you just? Yeah. . .”
Nat gives her arm an affectionate rub as she steps into the bathroom. “Of course.” She walks to the sink, taking hold of the stick as she looks back to Syd in the mirror. “You ready?”
“Fair.” She turns the test over. Syd watches Nat eyes widen in the reflection. “Oh.”
“Oh? Oh, what? Oh, like oh! No big deal haha, cancel the baby shower?” Syds jokes, gnawing at the edge of her thumbnail.
“Just, you know, you’re pregnant.”
Her hand drops from her mouth and she’s feeling a bit lightheaded, like she might vomit out every organ. She stumbles back, away from Nat’s outstretched arms, until her back hits the wall and her legs give out. Sliding down to the floor, the cool tile is the only thing that feels real. Everything else might be some sort of sick mirage at this point.
Syd pulled her knees to her chest and rests her forehead on them, trying desperately not to break down completely in front of Nat. She feels rather than sees Nat slide down beside her, their shoulders almost touching.
“You know, I did the same thing when I found out I was pregnant with Sophie. Literally right here in this bathroom.”
Syd turns her head to look at Nat, her face still pressed against her forearms. She could feel tears and snot covering her face, making her skin sticky and hot. Fucking gross.
“I’m sorry, Nat, this is disgusting.”
“Nothing about you is disgusting, Sydney. It’s just- it’s a lot.”
Syd let’s out a laugh that sounds morel like a sob. “At least you’re like, I don’t know, married? Normal?”
Nat laughed. “I don’t think anyone here is normal, Syd.”
“Perfect for a baby then, right?” Nat was quiet. “Shit, sorry, I’m so- what do I even do?”
“What do you want to do?” Nat stretches her legs out in front of her.
“I don’t know. I should probably tell him? Like that would be the right thing to do?” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself of it.
“Yeah, I think you definitely, definitely, should.” Nat stressed, glancing over at Syd with a look that said she knows exactly how much Syd wants to avoid this conversation with Carmy.
“Maybe after everything is confirmed? Like . . .it’s not always guaranteed right? Like this could just blow over?”
Nat winced, slightly. “Well, technically, but . . .” She trailed off.
Syd stared down at her clogs as she felt a headache begin to pound at her temples. “Then once I know, for sure, 100%. I’ll tell him.”
Nat chewed her lip. “Alright, hun, do you have a gyneo?” Syd nodded. “‘Cause you’re gonna wanna call ‘em sooner than later.”
Groaning at the thought, Syd rested her forehead against her knees again. Her stomach rolls again and she had the image of a tiny baby rioting in her guts, kicking and stomping over her stomach. The thought forced her to think of what the baby would look like. Being half her, half Carmy. And would that riotous baby, have her stubbornness and his intensity? Or her humor and his lack of it, that still managed to make her laugh? She pushed away the thoughts.
What the fuck is she supposed to do now?
Sydney checked the clock on the wall again, tapping her foot against the kitchen floor. Nat was supposed to be here five minutes ago. The appointment was at 2:30, and it was already-
“Hey, Chef, you good?” Carmy had walked up to her. Standing much too close and piercing her with his bright eyes.
“Yeah,” She looked away from her eyes, tucking her prep into the lowboy and moving away towards the lockers. “Got an appointment. Forgot to tell you, should be back before doors.”
“Oh,” he nodded, following her towards the lockers. “Everything okay?”
“Fine. Just a check-up,” she clipped, her stomach twisting and clenching as she unbuttoned her whites and hung it in her locker.
He watched her kick off her clogs. “I could drive you, if you-”
“Nat’s taking me,” she cut him off, relief washing over her as she spotted Nat coming around the corner. “She’s here now, actually.”
Carmy’s face fell and he moved his fingers to rub at his bottom lip. “Right. Cool. Well, hope everything’s . . .good.”
“Thanks.” She quickly squeezed past him. Just barely catching the smell of him. Garlic, and good olive oil, and stupid expensive cologne.
Nat gave him a wave and then followed Syd out towards her parked car.
“Well, that was painful to watch.”
“Please, Nat,” Syd pleaded, pulling open the passenger door as Nat climbed in the other side.
Clipping in her seat belt, Nat bit at her bottom lip and started the car. “He’s going to figure it out eventually, Syd.”
“I know.” She stared out the window as Nat pulled from the spot. Avoiding the side mirror where she could just barely see the reflection of Sophie’s car seat in the seat behind her. “I just need to . . .”
“You need to be sure,” Nat finished for her. “I get it.” They’ve been over this nearly everyday since they found out.
The drive to the OB’s office was mostly silent. Nat kept trying to spark up conversation, but Sydney’s mind was too busy racing through every possible scenario and every possible consequence of a conversation with Carmy.
The waiting room was painted a soft blue, that was probably supposed to be calming, but Syd thought it was useless with the bright florescent lights blasting down into your eyes. Sydney’s leg bounced as she filled out paperwork, checking boxes about her medical history, trying to remember when her last period had been. Thank god for tracking apps.
“This is process is bu-ll-shit,” she whispered to Nat, thinking about how the receptionist explained they’d need to do the viability ultrasound before seeing the doctor. “First of all, that first call is crazy awkward. And second, why does it take so long to get into the actual OB?”
“I know, I felt like a teen mom calling in for Sophie. I was actually sweating,” Nat squeezed her hand. “But, I think they want the full picture before the doctor sees you.”
“Still bullshit,” Nat agreed with a small smile.
When they finally called her name, Sydney’s legs felt like Jello. The ultrasound tech was cheerful in a way that grated on her really grated her nerves. Way too bright and chipper for someone about to confirm if Sydney’s life was permanently altered.
“Just lie back and lift your shirt for me,” the tech said, prepping the machine. “When was your last period?”
“I’m, uh, a little irregular,” Sydney admitted, the paper crinkling beneath her as she shifted. “But according to my app, it was about ten-ish weeks ago.”
“Gotcha! This might be a little cold.” The tech squirted cold gel onto Sydney’s stomach. She tried not to flinch, both from the temperature and the realization of what was happening.
The wand pressed into her lower abdomen, uncomfortable with a full bladder, but not painful. The tech moved it around, occasionally clicking her mouse rapidly for something on the screen that Sydney couldn’t bring herself to look at.
Nat sharply sucked in air beside her, finally forcing Sydney to look at the mounted screen out of curiosity. Her eyes welled up.
There it was. Sydney wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t something that actually looked like a little baby. Well, like an alien baby, but still. It wriggled and shifted on the black screen, seemingly not enjoying being under the vision of the wand’s camera as the tech kept measuring and clicking. Something like Carmy and any camera, Syd thought. Her mouth went dry and she stared at the screen, transfixed by the tiny legs kicking and rebounding in the amniotic fluid.
“Are their heads normally that big?” she heard her self ask.
“Yeah,” Nat breathed a laugh beside her. “It evens out eventually.”
“Oh, yeah, right, okay.” The words tumbled out automatically as her brain struggled to catch up.
On the screen, the tech must have been taking more photos for the print-outs, because a bold “BABY,” and “HI! DADDY!” flashed up on the screen. Her heart lurched. Daddy. Carmy. Fuck.
_________________________________________
The follow-up meeting with the nurse was a blur for Syd. “12 weeks, six days . . .yes we add two weeks to the date . . no I’m not sure why,” “avoid soft cheeses and deli meat,” “crackers by your bed for morning sickness, but we can prescribe Zofran if you’d like.” But the rest washed over her. She nodded at appropriate intervals, took the pamphlets thrust into her hands, and tried not to look as shell-shocked as she felt.
When Nat pulled into the parking lot behind The Bear, they sat in silence for a long moment. The afternoon sun slanted through the windshield, making her feel like she was closer to burning up from the inside out.
“So,” Nat finally said, turning in her seat. “What do you want to do?”
Sydney kept staring out the window. The back door to the restaurant was propped open, Carmy must have been breaking down boxes again. “I want to keep it.”
“Okay, okay.” Nat lets out a slow breath and then reached over the center console to pull Syd into as good a hug that they could manage with the gearshift between them. “I’m here for you, okay? Anytime, all the time.”
“I know, Nat. thank you.” She squeezed Nat tighter. Syd hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear that she wasn’t alone in this.
Nat pulled back, studying her face. “When are you going to tell him? Now that you know for sure.”
Syd felt every muscle in her body stiffen and glanced back at The Bear. Through the open door, she could see Carmy pass by with Ritchie following closely behind with waving arms. “Soon. I just need to wrap my head around it.”
Though, she wondered if she’d ever be ready. How do you tell someone that every singular aspect is about to change? Or what if there was no change for him? What if he bowed out?
The ultrasound image burned in her pocket, the “HI! Daddy!” message feeling something like a direct threat to her peace.
Syd and Nat were being weird. Normally, Nat would have called Carmy at least six times a day about something or another - not that he answered - but lately it was only once or twice if absolutely necessary to The Bear. And even then she seemed to want to jump off the line as quickly as possible. She wasn’t even coming into the office as frequently. At first Carmy figured that Sophie was going through some sort of rough spot, so maybe Nat slowed down, but Pete had been cheerfully adamant that wasn’t the case.
Sydney on the other hand had already been avoiding him, but now it was so blatantly obvious that it filled him with a green poison whenever he caught her having any casual conversation with their coworkers. He just couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted between them. It was nearly chemical, like the air around her was a completely different makeup than anyone else in the world. He wanted to talk to her about everything, really anything, but every time he entered a room, she found a reason to leave it.
"Hey, Syd, you got a minute?" he called across the line during prep.
"Actually, I need to check on that delivery," she said, already walking toward the door, a clipboard clutched against her chest.
Carmy watched her go, knife hovering mid-chop over a pile of shallots. He frowned, he’d already checked the delivery for her. Hoping to avoid her disappearance. After fifteen minutes passed and she hadn’t returned, despite checks being done, his irritation popped and he went to the walk in.
She was resting her forehead against the back of the cool wall, the clipboard left forgotten next to the Racchio. Taking in her outline he glanced down her arm, noticing that Syd was wearing her old ill fit chef's coat. Two sizes too wide, she was basically swimming in fabric that hid her frame. She'd been doing that a lot lately. He tried to remember when he'd first noticed the change but couldn't pinpoint it. Probably just another attempt to distance herself from him. He felt his ears and neck heating up.
This is ending now, he thought.
"What the hell is going on with you, Syd?" he demanded, unable to keep the frustration from his voice. "You can barely look at me anymore."
She kept her back to him, shoulders tense. "I'm fine, Carmy. Just busy and tired from being so busy."
"Bullshit." He stepped closer. "You've been avoiding me for weeks. Ever since-"
"Don't." She finally turned, and the fluorescent light caught the exhaustion in her face. "We do not need to talk about that."
"I think we do," he insisted, noticing how she was gripping the edge of the shelf. "Something's wrong. You're not yourself. You're sick nearly everyday, you're wearing clothes that don't fit, and you're-you’re- you’re- “ he swallowed, breathing heavily, ”and-and Nat’s avoiding me too. Which is fucking weird for her."
He paused to give her room to speak, but she only chewed at her lip.
“Is-is it about that night? Because, I swear Syd, we can forget about it, I promise, I just-”
Syd’s eyes were welling up and Carmy was internally spiraling trying to figure out how to stem it. All of his frantic rambling fizzled into nothing and he dragged a hand through his hair before starting again.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Syd, I know how this industry works and what people could say and I’m sorry, I should have known better to let it get that far and-and-and I promise that I’ll drop it and we can forget about it. I just want my-my friend back. Please.”
Syd was squeezing her eyes shut as he spoke and Carmy felt like although they were near even height, she was shrinking in front of him from nerves. He didn’t like that.
“Carm?” She started, still squeezing her eyes shut and then letting her face relax.
“I dont think we‘ll be able to forget about that night .”
“W-what do you mean?” His guts fell to his feet trying to figure out what she meant by this. Was it possible he misread the night? Did he hurt her without realizing? What if. What if. What if.
Syd looked up to the ceiling with a grimace. “Just- follow me.”
Carmy’s brows screwed together as she skirted by him, through the door. He followed her towards the lockers.
She paused outside of her own locker, taking a deep breath before opening it and digging through her tote bag. She pulled out a small brown square envelope and handed it to him.
He looked up at her questionably, and she bit at the side of her nail, nodding her head for him to open it. Flicking the little tab through the hole he opens up the envelope and pulls out what appears to be an ultrasound. He lets it fall open like an accordion, taking in bold printed “BABY,” and “HI! DADDY” over the first few images.
He looks up at Syd. “Why are you showing me Sophie’s old pictures?”
Syd moved her finger from her mouth and very much looked like she wanted to roll her eyes at him, but instead pointed at the upper left hand corner of an ultrasound photo.
“Dude, it’s not Nat’s baby.”
He followed her finger to find ‘Sydney Adamu’ printed next to her birthday. "Holy shit," he whispered to himself, the implications washing over him like ice water. "Holy shit."
“HI! DADDY” staring up at him. What a weird fucking few months it’s been
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