Chapter One-Forty-Five: I Mean

My dressing of Milos in both socks and mittens is disrupted by his flailing about.

I cannot voice my frustration because his smile is so distractingly bright that I seem to want him to do this forever.

I wish he could stay this size for eternity, yet even the sock I place on him are new to fit his rapidly growing body.

"Babe, you there?"

"Babe?"

I repeat, and Marko’s laugh fills the receiver.

For a moment, I forgot that he was watching me through the phone I had propped on the wall during our video conversation.

"Yes. ‘Babe’, you are both my babies, aren’t you?"

"Mm..."

I hum to cease the smile forming on my face, but I do not know if I have fooled him, for when my gaze lifts briefly to meet his, his cheeky smile captures me.

"You look beautiful, Alba."

"Stop lying to me, it's six a.m. here, and my greatest achievement is waking and feeding Milos."

"Feeding him my milk, you mean."

"Oh my God, stop...saying that!"

His laugh flows with ease.

It's been three days since he left. He was to