Becca.
“F*ck,” Alessandro said over breakfast while munching apple slices in his highchair.
I kept bottle-feeding Dahlia, mentally counting backwards from twenty and trying not to panic over Alessandro’s new obsession. I wished my father was there to help. He’d know how to take care of the swearing.
James came into the nursery, then. Alessandro’s face lit up and he held out chubby little arms. “F*ck!” he insisted.
“I think he wants you to pick him up,” I muttered.
“Of course that’s what it means,” James sighed. He lifted the sticky little boy into his arms and looked around. “Where’s Layla?”
“Allegra invited her to stay at a hotel last night. I know she said she won’t leave us until after the trial, but if Allegra has to leave, and Layla wants to go with her…” I said.
James groaned and went to the Pack ’n Play to get wet wipes. He started cleaning Alessandro off.
“F*ck,” Alessandro grumped with a pout when James went to clean his face.
