"Daddy?" A whine from the side of my bed, followed by a tug on the white comforter covering my body makes me wince and screw my eyes shut tighter.
What the fuck?
"Daddy?—"
Rolling onto my stomach, I lift my arm off of Sunny's waist and flutter my eyes open.
"Daddy—" She whines out again, her voice stringy and fragile.
Standing beside my side of the bed, Rory stands with her fingers shoved in her mouth. I can just about make out her dim outline in the dark room.
"Roo, it's the middle of the night, baby, why're you awake?"
She sniffles as I prop my cheek up on my elbow.
"Daddy, my tummy is poorly,"
"Your tummy is poorly?" I repeat, sitting up a little as Sunday stirs beside me.
My eyes flick back to her lying with her hair tied back in a messy bun on the pillow. She's on her side, legs bent a little from where I was spooning her from behind. One hand is lying on her stomach, probably draped over mine when it was cuddling her and the other is lying up by her face on the pillow as soft little huffs of breath puff from between her lips.
"Daddy—" Rory cries, a little louder again to the point that Sunny grumbles and rolls onto her side more.
"Okay, okay, Peanut. I know, babe, but you're going to wake mumma up so..."
Swinging my feet off the side of the bed, I let the covers fall off me and pool around my waist.
I run my hand back through my hair, I cut it only a few days ago so I am still not used to the short length of it.
"Daddy—" She whines again, chewing on her fingertips and I can tell that from the dribble in her voice that she is crying.
I nod, trying to wake myself up and engage my brain enough to think of a solution for this.
"Okay, let's find you some pink medicine and get you back to bed, sweet girl," I say
Just as I do say that, Rory makes a small groaning noise and before I have a chance to register what's happening, her body is folding over and she is throwing up all over the carpet on my side of the bedroom.
The visceral sound of her retching and coughing to get everything up has me frozen on the spot.
The smell is putrid, making me gag as I run my hand down my face and sigh.
"Whoever said to have kids was talking out of their arse. This is—"
Sunday sits up behind me, obviously woken from the noise that Rory is creating.
