“And your daughter? Katherine, isn’t it?” A smile touched my lips. “We call her Kat. She’s five months now.” To be exact, one-hundred-and-forty-eight days. “And how has it been, adjusting to a newborn?” “Kat’s colicky—doesn’t sleep very well.” Just like me. When she woke up multiple times each night, I got up with her, sometimes fed her a bottle Gianna had pumped beforehand, and held her until she fell back to sleep. Gianna had insisted she do it all at first, but I’d quickly ended that. “She looks like my wife.” That was the only thing I needed to see to know she was mine.
