The crying starts up again, too soon for me to have gotten any real sleep since the last time Cora woke up. Finn startles beside me, already pushing himself out of bed even though his eyes are still closed.

"I got it," I say, grabbing his arm to drag him back to bed. He makes a noise of protest, but eventually, just grumbles before falling back asleep.

Cora is wiggling around in her bassinet when I manage to drag myself out of bed and over to her. She somehow managed to get her arms out of her swaddle during the night, her hands up by her head.

She is still so small, easy enough to pick up and fix into the crook of my arm. She turned a week old yesterday and had gained half a pound already. It is a little surprising since she is a grazer instead of heavy eater. She insists on eating only about an ounce or two every two hours, instead of the recommended three ounces.

Alena had assured us that it is perfectly normal. As long as she is gaining weight, then we shouldn't worry. Finn has been running himself ragged the past week, driving me absolutely crazy. He can't heal if he isn't taking care of himself, but he just brushes off my concern. I know that he knows the importance of taking care of himself, so the easy way he is able to brush his own care aside irritates me to no end.

Cora's cries only get louder as I walk over to the dresser- where a changing pad is located- not liking that I have to put her down.

"It's alright, Cora," I whisper, unsnapping her onesie and changing her wet diaper as quickly as possible. She doesn't appreciate it and just cries louder.

Once I pick her up, she nuzzles into my chest, searching for food. But seeing as I don't have what she is looking for, she is going to have to wait a little longer. She calms slightly as I bounce around the kitchen during the few minutes it takes for the bottle to warm but doesn't completely settle until she has the bottle in her mouth.

It is so strange, looking down at her and seeing so much of Finn already. The hair on the top of her head is about an inch long, impressive for a newborn, and a deep auburn, just like her father. I hope it doesn't fall out and grow in a different color like Viola's did. Finn has nice hair, a much more unique color than Mary's. Her eyes are still the generic newborn blue, and it will be interesting to see if they stay a lighter color like her mother's or turn brown.

She is a bigger cuddler than Viola was when she was a baby, which is saying something. She refuses to fall asleep without someone holding her, and prefers to lay on your chest, blanket tucked in tight around her.

And every time I look at her, my thoughts get all jumbled. Too many feelings to sort out, and it irritates me that I can't control them. The two most at war, though, are the love and disconnect. Even though she is a week old, I feel so much love for her. How someone so small can cause so much love is astounding.

But then, the disconnect makes itself known.

Both Viola and Remy were children we took in, loved them and raised them as our own. We created our own family out of irregular puzzle pieces. But, Cora is a part of Finn, and I can't help but think that this situation is different.

Will Finn love her more than the other children?

Will she see me as a father, or will that be a label that will only belong to Finn?

What if Mary changes her mind and wants to be a part of her life?

Will Cora be upset that she has two fathers and not a father and mother?

All those questions are on repeat in my mind, and no matter the assurances I give myself, I can't help the doubt creeping through. It doesn't help that Finn seems so much happier this time around. With every smile he gives her, I think of how tense he was when we first got Viola, or how it took him a while to agree to take in Remy.

I love him, he is the other half of my soul, but everyone has their limits.

Shaking my head, I look back down at Cora, watching as she lazily eats her bottle. Erika had been by yesterday to drop off some more milk that she pumped. Our stash isn't large, but it is enough for me to feel comfortable that we have enough to provide for the baby.

The walk over to the couch is a dangerous one, seeing as Remy and Olivia had left out their toys last night. They are supposed to put them away before bed, but this past week, things have been slipping through the cracks. That's what happens when you are getting less than half the sleep you're supposed to.

Cora takes her time eating, pausing often and needing me to give the bottle a gentle nudge before she starts eating again. Alena had warned that we shouldn't let her fall asleep while eating. She is already teetering on the edge of not eating enough, so we should make sure she takes in as much as possible.

My eyes are becoming almost too heavy to keep open when she finally takes the last few drops of milk. Pulling the bottle from her, I set it on the table before draping her over my shoulder. She whines against me, not ever liking being burped. Maybe because it unsettles her stomach, but when she finally lets out a burp that should be too big for someone so small, she completely calms down.

Grabbing her blanket, I tuck it tightly around her once she is settled against my chest. It is her favorite position; the only way we can get her to sleep. It probably has something to do with the fact that she can hear and feel your heartbeat in this position, reminding her of her time inside Mary.

With her silent against me, I quietly check on the others. Olivia and Remy are fast asleep in their beds, blankets kicked off from the excessive heat that comes with it being the middle of summer.

Viola is sprawled out like a starfish in her bed, her thumb in her mouth as she sleeps. Leaning down, I brush a few strands away from her face, making her mumble in her sleep before letting out a soft sigh. It has me smiling, seeing how she is still so sassy even in sleep.

By the time I make it back to my own room, Cora is fast asleep against me, little hands clutched onto my shirt and knees tucked under her. Knowing that she is not in a deep enough sleep for me to successfully put her down, I carefully climb back onto the bed. Finn is in such a deep sleep that he doesn't feel the bed move, his soft snores not losing their rhythm.

The bed is warm, almost too warm, but I don't move away from Finn. Leaning over, I grab his hand, bringing it up to my face so I can press a kiss to the back of it before settling it on Cora's back. The added weight has her relaxing even more, bringing a smile to my face.

Despite everything we have gone through, we still managed to survive. Something like this- a baby being Finn's- should not be upsetting me this much. She isn't to blame, coming into this world as an innocent little babe.

And I don't blame her, not at all. The blame is entirely on my shoulders. My mom always said that bottling your emotions was a terrible idea, leading to blowouts when the emotions finally bubbled over. But Finn has done nothing wrong either. I don't want him to see me as a whiny child, complaining about things that have not even happened.

These circular thoughts are causing a headache. Letting out a quiet sigh, I try to rub away the pain, but it is no use. My exhaustion is catching up with me, along with the heat and the too many mixed feelings.

Maybe tomorrow I can ask Anna to watch the kids and Finn and I can have some time alone together. Or possibly I could even have some time alone, no one constantly needing my attention, to be held or reassured at every second.

Yes, that sounds like something I can look forward to.

Never before have I ever seen this as being my life. Jealousy hasn't been an issue for me before, often just brushing off things that other people would be bothered by. If someone was not interested in me, I did not take it personally, just moved on. But this is not something I can move past. It is something that I am actually going to have to deal with.

Another sigh slips out of me, and with one last rub at my temple, I force my eyes open. I am on the verge of sleep, but I refuse to fall asleep with Cora on my chest. Too dangerous.

She stays completely asleep as I settle her in her bassinet, tucking her blanket around her. For everyone else, it is too warm, but she always sleeps better with her blanket. Leaning down, I press a soft kiss on her forehead, breathing in her baby scent.

It is a comfort, something that allows me to relax enough to pull away and lay back on the mattress. Scooting up to Finn, I loosely wrap my arm around his waist, not getting too close since I don't want to absorb his body heat when it is already so warm. It is comfortable enough though, and with a soft kiss to the back of his neck, I allow myself to drift to sleep, my worries starting up again as soon as I am unconscious.

*****

Alden is so frustrated right now, not being able to control his feelings. We've all been there before, right?

To be honest, this story was supposed to end a few chapters ago, but now I am not quite sure how much longer it will be. At least a few more chapters, most likely more.