Us. | A Joe Jonas FanFiction | Book 3

forty.

I had never really imagined Joe and I ever having problems after our big break up. We had worked through so much and mastered our communication skills before getting married so to think now that we're once again having problems is rough for me. But, if I'm being honest with myself, I know I'm at fault for this current predicament. I was the one who had been hiding how I was feeling for the first three months of Willa's life. I thought I was protecting him in my faking being content with our life. In reality, I had just caused another problem within itself.

After our argument about my feelings on officially being a mother, and Joe's thoughts on the lack of connection between my daughter and I, I had realized one thing greatly.

He was right.

During Willa's first three months, I had done exactly what he had said, fed her, changed her diaper, given her the essential care that she needed, and then handed her off to Joe. But I did it on purpose. Subconsciously on purpose, but on purpose, nonetheless.

Being so terrified of being a mom and screwing Willa up, I've been sabotaging my ability to have a true connection with my daughter since the moment she arrived. But I'm honestly terrified to find the connection, too. Finding the connection could mean my inability to stay out of the way and then all of my fears of somehow ruining her become more and more of a possibility. Because I'll be present.

Regardless of this, since our argument, I've been spending more time with Willa, especially with Joe working again. Though, unlike what we talked about, he finds a way to go over to Nick's instead of Nick coming to our home. Probably to try and hide our lack of conversation. If it isn't a conversation essential to Willa's care, it's not a conversation at all. We sleep in the same bed, under the same roof, but right now, rather than being united, we are two separate beings.

It's been harder, however, with Christmas being tomorrow. Though it's Christmas Eve, I have yet to see Joe today. Granted, it's only nine in the morning and Willa's just fallen asleep for her first nap of the day. Typically, Joe finds his way to Willa within the first hour of her being awake, after she's been fed and changed. The only time we spend as the three of us has been almost a month ago, directly after Thanksgiving when we decided to spend the day as a family, decorating our New Jersey home for Christmas.Today, I suppose he went out to try and get a couple last minute gifts for her, a couple more books I suppose as they're becoming her favorite.

Which leads me to how my relationship with my daughter has grown... or rather how it has not. Despite my efforts to spend more time with my daughter, playing with her, reading to her, and continuing to take care of her as Joe is not always at home, the lack of connection persists. I've come to terms with the possibility of it never becoming which is probably my fault due to lack of trying within the first few months of her life and my objections to being her mother during my entire pregnancy... and continuing on now. My feelings on being her mother have yet to change, regardless of my efforts.

I make my way to the kitchen, making sure the camera is brought up on my phone so I can watch her as I wash her bottles and other dishes from my small breakfast this morning.

The front door soon opens and closes, before footsteps are heard behind me, Joe entering the kitchen and setting a couple bags on the table.

I finish rinsing the last bottle, setting it on the drying rack and turning around, leaning back on the sink and watch him for a moment, unpack a couple of food items followed by, as I assumed, a couple of baby books for Willa.

"I, uhh, I got her a couple more books," he says, not making eye contact as he lifts them lightly before setting them on the table. "Do you want me to wrap them or do you want to just set them out?"