He sat beside me and passed the baby into my arms, but instead of letting go, he wrapped his arms around us in such a way that her little bottom rested on his chest as I led her to my nipple.
His finger touched me right above where her mouth worked as if he would help her draw the milk from my breast. “My little Sabrina.” His words were filled with awe and admiration as he ran his hand gently over her head.
“Your son’s starting to fuss.” He left us and went to pick his son up. I need not have worried that all his love was for our daughter. He picked our boy up and studied him with a strange look on his face. “My son.” It was all he said, before pulling the baby to his chest and kissing his little head as he closed his eyes.
THE END