Chapter Twenty-Nine

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"You look shittier today," Jonah prompted as he slid a cup of warm coffee to my table. He was still wearing his apron, so he wasn't off his shift yet.

I glared at him. "Thank you, husband."

It was now Thursday, and I had spent nearly every night trying not to lose my shit. I found it harder and harder to love Daisy like I was supposed to love a baby of mine. I mean, how could I? Normal babies didn't cry like that, and definitely not that loud. Normal babies didn't have that much energy to keep their parents awake every single night. I'd been sleeping very little, catching some rest-eyes on the way school and back while my nights are spent wide awake trying to shush a crying doll.

I didn't even want to know how many times Ms. Bishop almost caught me falling asleep in her class. Thankfully, Jonah had moved his seat so he was sitting next to me during the class, and his responsibility was keeping me awake while still not making any sound that could catch our teacher's attention. During other classes, though, there was no guarantee that I was fully awake.

Daisy was sat on my lap as I took sips of the warm coffee, the caffeine working fast to keep me alert. I was doing another bunch of Chemistry homework and I prayed to god that she wasn't about to start crying anytime soon.

So far, Jonah hadn't experienced what it was like to have a fake baby crying in his arms. He hadn't heard the doll cry once, and that was why he was so calm about all this while I was on the edge of my sanity. I couldn't freaking wait until it was finally his turn to take care of Daisy.

"Can I hold her?" Jonah's quiet voice broke me out of my concentration. I hadn't even realized that he'd been standing there, and not back to his counter. "I've never really held her, so..."

I dropped my pen and took Daisy into my arms, and Jonah reached his arms out. The way he was holding the doll was stiff and awkward, and it was clear that he had no idea what to do with the baby. It made me smile a little bit, the stress I had been feeling dissipating little by little. It could also be the works of the caffeine inside my system that made me feel less stressed out, though.

"Loosen your muscles," I told him. "You're holding her a bit too strained. Position her as comfortable as possible in your arms."

He murmured in response, carefully shifting the doll around in his arms until he got the hang of it.

"You've never held a baby before?"

He shook his head. "Babies kinda scare the shit out of me."

I laughed. "Well I'd rather take care of a real baby than Daisy. No real baby can cry that long."

He glanced at me, taking in the dark bags under my eyes and my slightly messy hair. "I'm sure it's not that bad," he said apprehensively, but he was only trying to convince himself. I just smirked at him. "At least she's not wiggling around. I'd probably drop a real baby."

I held out my hands, gesturing for him to give her back to me. "Go back to your work before she starts crying."

"Wait, Hannah," he said, effectively making me drop the pen I had just started to hold.

That was the first time he called me Hannah. Not Taylors, not Hannah Taylors, but Hannah. I bit my lip and looked up, "Hm?"

"My turn starts in Sunday, right?"

I nodded at him.

"Why don't we..." he paused, shifting in his legs, "why don't we take a walk in the town park with Daisy before I take her home?"

I blinked several times, my brain trying to understand what really it was that he was asking.

Was this his weird way of asking me out?

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