It Starts with Us by Colleen Hoover

“No. But he’s really upset, and I don’t want to be home alone right now. I
know I shouldn’t be bringing Emmy around you yet, but I feel safer with her
here than if Ryle tried to show up and take her today. I’m sorry, I just don’t
want to be anywhere he might find me.”
I tilt her chin up until she’s looking at me. “I’m happy you’re here. Both of
you. Stay the whole day if you want.”
She exhales and presses her lips against mine. “Thank you.” She moves to
the back door to grab her daughter out of her car seat. Emerson doesn’t even
wake up. She’s limp in Lily’s arms, passed out. “She’s been at the park for an
hour; she’s exhausted.”
I stare at Emerson in wonder, still amazed by how much she looks like
Lily. She’s the spitting image of her mother, and I’m not at all upset that she
looks nothing like her father. “Do you need me to grab anything?”
“Her diaper bag is in the passenger seat.”
I grab it, and we make our way into the house. Josh looks over his
shoulder when he hears me walk inside. Lily waves at him, and he nods his
head, but then when he notices Emerson, he turns completely around in his
chair.
“That’s a baby,” he says.
“It is,” Lily replies. “Her name is Emerson.”
Josh looks at me. “Is it yours?” He uses the Sharpie in his hand to point at
Emerson. “Is that my niece?”
Lily laughs uncomfortably.
I probably should have warned Josh before they showed up. “No, I am not
a dad, and you are not an uncle.”
Josh stares at us for a minute, then shrugs and says, “Okay.” He turns
around and gives his attention back to his homework.
“Sorry about that,” I say quietly. I set Emerson’s diaper bag near the
couch. “Want me to get a blanket for her?”
Lily nods, so I grab a thick quilt from the hallway closet and lay it on the
floor next to the couch. I double it over to give it more cushion, and she
places Emerson on it. Emerson sleeps through the entire transfer.
“Don’t let her fool you—she’s a very light sleeper.” Lily kicks off her
shoes and sits on the couch, pulling her feet beneath her. I sit down next to
her, hoping she feels like talking about what happened, because I need to
know why she’s scared.