Chapter 10

Erika's pov

The next morning, I woke up feeling worse than I had the night before. My stomach churned, and a cold sweat clung to my skin. I groaned, trying to shake off the nausea. I had a midterm today, and I couldn't afford to be sick.

Stumbling out of bed, I quickly put on a shirt that belonged to Cat. This made my mind flash back to last night. I always end up falling back on Catherine, no matter how hard I resist. I blamed it on my mother. She made me want to be comforted, she made me have doubtful thoughts, it's not my fault. I don't need Catherine, I just want her, I crave the comfort she can provide, but that doesn't mean I truly love her. Right?

I made my way to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before throwing up. I clutched the cold porcelain, willing my body to stop revolting. After what felt like an eternity, the nausea subsided enough for me to stand up and rinse my mouth.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. My face was pale, and dark circles had formed under my eyes. I splashed some water on my face, hoping it would help me look less sick. I couldn't let Catherine see me like this. She would definitely treat me like a child, more so than she already does.

Taking a deep breath, I put on a brave face and got dressed. I tried to move as quietly as possible, hoping Catherine wouldn't notice. But as soon as I stepped into the kitchen, she looked up from her coffee and smiled.

"Good morning, monkey. Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, I did," I lied, forcing a smile. "Just a bit tired, that's all."

She narrowed her eyes slightly, clearly not buying my act. "Are you sure? You don't look so good."

"I'm fine, really. I just have a lot on my mind with the midterm today." I replied, it wasn't completely the truth, but it most definitely wasn't a lie.

Catherine's expression softened. "I understand. I enjoyed your company last night, little one. My bed is always open and I'm always here." She walked over to me and placed a hand on my forehead. Her touch was gentle, but I knew she could feel the heat radiating from my skin.

"You're burning up," she said, her tone shifting to one of concern. "Erika, you're sick. There's no way you're leaving this house."

"No, you can't," I protested, stepping back. "I have a midterm today. I need to be there."

Catherine crossed her arms, her expression firm. "You're not going anywhere in this condition. I'm checking your temperature."

Before I could argue, she disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a thermometer. She gently placed it under my tongue, and we both waited in silence. I felt a knot of anxiety in my stomach, knowing the outcome wouldn't be in my favor.

When the thermometer beeped, Catherine pulled it out and frowned. "102 degrees. You're definitely not going to class today."

My frustration bubbled over. "I can't miss the midterm! I need to take it!"

"You need to rest," Catherine insisted. "Your health is more important than any exam."

Anger flared inside me. "You don't understand! This midterm is crucial. I can't afford to fall behind." I'll be a failure, just as my mother said. I need to work harder, sickness never was an issue in Okinawa. When I was sick I wore a mask and went on with my life.

Catherine's eyes softened, but her resolve didn't waver. "Honey, I know you're stressed, I'm putting my foot down on this one." I was trying to find out, where she found all this audacity? I'm an adult, or at least almost, in two months. Despite that she can't tell me what to do.

I clenched my mouth, feeling a mix of anger and helplessness.

"I'm doing this because I care about you," Catherine said gently. "I'll email your professor and explain the situation. I work with most of them, they'll cut you some slack don't worry. You can make up for the midterm when you're better."

"No," I demanded, turning away. "You don't control me, I'm an adult."

Catherine sighed deeply, her patience evident even in her exasperation. "Erika, I'm not trying to control you. I'm trying to take care of you."

"I don't need you to take care of me," I shot back, feeling my frustration peak. "I can handle myself."

"Really?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "Because right now, it looks like you can barely stand."

I hated that she was right. My legs felt like jelly, and my head was spinning. But I couldn't let her win. I couldn't let her treat me like a child. "I'm going to class," I insisted, my voice wavering.

Catherine stepped closer, her gaze softening but her stance remaining firm. "My love, you're sick. You need to rest. I'll make sure you can retake the midterm. Your health is more important."

Tears of frustration welled up in my eyes. "You don't understand. I can't afford to fall behind. I need to pass this midterm." Ever since coming to America I have been so emotional. Last night especially. My mother, sure her words always hurt, but my emotions have been heightened to the next level. Never would I act so out of control back home.

"And you will," she said soothingly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "But not today. Today, you need to rest."

I wanted to argue, to push back against her unwavering calm. But the room was starting to spin, and I felt a wave of nausea rising again. I swallowed hard, trying to keep it down. "Fine," I muttered, my voice cracking. "But only because I don't have the energy to fight you."

Catherine's expression softened even more. "Thank you, monkey. Now, let's get you back to bed. We might as well do our time today, since you'll be home today. You have eight hours to make up." She lifted me onto her hip and walked towards the nursery before I could even respond.

Catherine's pov

"Is that my shirt?" I chuckled, "I'm far too tall for you to fit in my shirt." Erika remained silent, limped in my arms. She was nodding off, perhaps she was tired from the events of last night and the lack of sleep.

Erika's actions last night made me extremely worried. She was so sad, and I know the issue wasn't as simple as not being able to sleep. Maybe she had a nightmare?

Secretly, though, I was so happy she allowed us to be so close, that she turned to me whilst she was upset. Of course I was concerned, and will do everything I can to find out what's upsetting my baby.

I laid her down gently in the nursery, her eyes already closing. "Stay here, monkey," I said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I'm going to make you some breakfast."

I quickly prepared a tray with warm oatmeal, hoping it would be gentle on her stomach. When I returned, Erika was barely awake. I set the tray down beside her and helped her sit up.

"I made you some oatmeal," I said gently, sitting down beside her. "It's light and easy on the stomach. You need to eat something, Erika."

She shook her head weakly. "I can't. I feel too nauseous."

"Just a few bites, monkey. You need nutrients to fight the sickness." I spooned some oatmeal and held it to her lips. She hesitated, but eventually opened her mouth. The warmth of the oatmeal seemed to comfort her, even if she still looked miserable.

"Good girl," I murmured, feeding her another bite. "Just a little more."

She managed a few more spoonfuls before the nausea became too much. "I can't," she whispered, pushing my hand away. "I'm going to be sick."

I set the spoon down and wiped her mouth gently. "That's okay, baby. You did well."

I helped her lay back down and pulled a soft blanket over her. I felt her forehead; she was still burning up.

"I'm going to change you into something more comfortable," I said softly. "You'll feel better."

She nodded weakly. I went to the closet and pulled out a soft, pink onesie. I gently undressed her, my hands careful and tender. Once she was in the onesie, I lifted her again and sat down in the rocking chair, cradling her in my arms.

"I have a bottle for you," I said, holding it up. "It will help you feel better."

She looked reluctant but nodded. I gently guided the bottle to her lips, and she started to drink. The warm milk seemed to soothe her, and she began to relax in my arms.

I've been giving Erika my breastmilk since day one, hoping that she will allow us to create the ultimate bond and breastfeed. When I finally had someone agree and sign my lease I started the hormonal treatments.

But before that could happen I needed to introduce diapers, and seeing how she barely allows me to touch her most days, I had to take matters into my own hands. She'd never allow me to on her own.

As I rocked her gently, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. Humming softly, I watched her eyes grow heavy, her breathing evening out.

I kissed her forehead. "Rest now. I'll take care of everything."

Once she was deeply asleep, I gently laid her down in her crib and tucked the blanket around her. I lingered for a moment, watching over her before quietly leaving the nursery.

In my office, I drafted an email to Erika's professor, explaining the situation. As I hit send, I felt a sense of relief. Erika's education was important, but her health was paramount. I would make sure she had the time and space to recover fully.

Returning to the nursery, I sat beside Erika's crib, watching her sleep. I couldn't help but smile. She was strong, resilient, and incredibly stubborn. But beneath that toughness, she had a heart that craved love and care. And I was more than willing to provide that for her.

I had one of my old friends do an intense background check of her recently. I know most things about her, especially pertaining to her family life. She was adopted, a closed adoption. Both her parents are from Okinawa, but her father passed, and her mother is apparently a nightmare. There's so much more, but those were my main takeaways.

From the way Erika held herself I could tell she was used to being on her own. Her resistance to my assistants, even for school work, proved this further. Yet, this just makes her more susceptible to my care.

-----------------------

As the morning wore on, I kept a close eye on Erika, ensuring she was comfortable and well-rested. She stirred occasionally but seemed to be resting peacefully. I knew she needed this time to recover, especially with her high fever and stress about the midterm.

A few hours later, I felt as if something was wrong. I rushed to Erika's side, finding her shifting uncomfortably in her sleep. As I gently touched her shoulder to wake her, I noticed the wet spot spread across the sheets.

"Erika," I said softly, shaking her gently. "Wake up, sweetie."

She blinked her eyes open, her face flushed and groggy. As soon as she realized what had happened, her expression shifted to one of embarrassment and panic.

"Oh my god," she stammered, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I-I don't know what happened."

I immediately moved to comfort her. "Shh, it's okay, monkey. It's just stress and being sick. Your body is under a lot of strain right now. There's nothing to worry about." I knew it wasn't Erika's fault, but it was necessary in order to get her into diapers.

My baby's tears spilled over as she tried to sit up. "I've never done this before," she whispered. "I'm not a baby. I can't believe this happened."

I hugged her gently, rubbing her back. "You're dealing with a lot right now. Accidents happen, especially when you're sick. Don't be ashamed."

She sniffled, clinging to me. She was acting so much like a baby, making my heart flutter with excitement. I was upset she was upset, but I knew this was for the better.

I hesitated for a moment, knowing what I needed to suggest. "Just in case, I think we should put you in pull-ups for now. It's only temporary, until you're feeling better."

My monkey pulled back, shaking her head vehemently. "No, I don't need those. I can control it. Please, don't make me wear them."

I sighed, trying to balance firmness with compassion. "Honey, I know this is hard for you. But it's just a precaution. You need to rest without worrying about this happening again."

She looked at me with a mix of desperation and resignation. "I don't want to," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

"I understand," I said softly. "But it's for the best. Let's get you cleaned up and into something dry. I promise it's only temporary."

Reluctantly, she nodded, her shoulders slumping in defeat. I helped her up and led her to the bathroom, where I gently cleaned her up and changed her clothes. "How about a warm bath to help you relax?" I suggested softly, hoping the soothing water would calm her.

Erika looked at me hesitantly, then nodded, her eyes showing a glimmer of energy. "Okay," she whispered.

I stripped the sheets of the crib with the intention to wash them when I had a chance before I headed towards the bathroom with my baby in my arms.

I filled the bathtub with warm water, adding a few drops of lavender oil to help her relax. "Let's get you undressed," I said gently, helping her out of her clothes. She stood there, looking vulnerable and unsure.

I wanted to comfort her once more, so after I led her into the bath. I quickly undressed. Erika's face turned a dark shade of red. My baby was so shy, it contrasted her usual resistance. She was so shy, she didn't even say a word as I entered the bathtub behind her.

The warm water cascaded over us. I sat behind her, gently washing her hair and soothing her with calming words.

"It's going to be okay," I whispered, my hands working through her hair. "You're safe, and you're doing great."

She leaned back against me, closing her eyes and letting out a small sigh. Shifting her head so it's right between my breasts. "Thank you," she murmured. "Thank you for taking care of me."

"You're my baby, and I'm your mommy, even when you think you're not my baby, I'm always here for you," I replied, continuing to wash her gently against my chest "I'll always be your mommy"

Erika responded by wrapping her arms around me. For the past few days, she has been so affectionate. Making me connect even more with her, my love grows with every touch, every conversation, every breath. She's my baby.

After the bath, I wrapped her in a soft towel and dried her off. "Let's get you into something comfortable," I said, guiding her back to the nursery. I brought out a pack of pull-ups and held one up.

"These are discreet and comfortable," I said, trying to reassure her. "No one will know, and you'll feel more secure."

She looked at the pull-up with a mixture of shame and reluctance. "Okay," she whispered, her voice trembling. "But only because you said it's temporary."

I helped her step into the pull-up, pulling it up gently and making sure it was snug but not too tight. "There we go," I said softly, brushing her hair back. "You're all set. Let's get you back to bed, okay?"

Erika nodded, looking down at the floor, clearly struggling with her emotions. Maybe I need to get her a therapist, to help deal with everything. She can't bottle her emotions up.

I guided her back to the nursery, tucking her in with a warm blanket. "You're doing great," I said, sitting beside her and holding her hand. "I'm proud of you for being so brave."

She sniffled, looking up at me with teary eyes. I don't know what I did to make her cry. "Sweetheart what's the matter?" I asked gently.

She looked away and turned, remaining silent. "Hey honey talk to me, what's troubling that little pretty mind of yours." I stroked her hair and pleaded with her.

Erika just started crying more, "I don't know why I'm so emotional lately, maybe it's being sick. I don't know, I never cry," Erika jumbled on, I simply shushed her, she just needed comfort at this moment.

Erika's pov

Half of what I said was true, I don't know what was wrong with me. I felt like a different person. Ever since starting college and moving here, I had changed so much in the few months I'd been away from home. The strong, stoic version of myself that I knew seemed to be slipping away. What was left was this emotional, vulnerable girl who couldn't control her tears.

Cat rubbed small circles on my back, whispered words of comfort. My tears subsided, but I still couldn't shake off the feelings she gave me. I wanted to resist her so badly. I wanted to just jump off her hip and run straight out the door to do my midterm, but her hold on me was too strong, mentally and physically.

"Let's get you some medicine," Cat stated as she walked towards the cabinet. "Then after, we can read a story."

I watched her move with such calm assurance, her presence soothing and comforting despite the turmoil inside me. She came back with a spoonful of liquid medicine, and I reluctantly took it, grimacing at the taste.

"You're doing great," Cat said softly, wiping a stray tear from my cheek. "Now, let's find a book to read, okay?"

She picked out a storybook from the shelf and sat us down on the rocking chair, opening the book to the first page. Her voice was gentle and melodic as she began to read, and despite my inner conflict, I felt myself relaxing.

As she read, I couldn't help but glance at her from time to time, taking in the way her lips moved, the way her eyes sparkled with warmth and affection. It was overwhelming. I wanted to pull away, to hide from these feelings, but at the same time, I craved her presence.

Eventually, I found myself leaning against her, the rhythmic sound of her voice lulling me into a sense of security as well as the rocking motion that made us gently move. I closed my eyes, letting the words wash over me, trying to hold on to the comfort she provided.

"Feeling better?" Cat asked, glancing down at me.

"A little," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

She smiled, her hand gently brushing through my hair. "You don't have to thank me, sweetheart. I'm here for you, always." She kissed the top of my head making me blush. I was finally feeling better, better enough to start realizing the gravity of my situation.

I nodded, feeling a lump in my throat. I wanted to say more, to tell her how much she meant to me, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, I just stayed close to her, finding solace in her presence.

After a while, the story came to an end, and Cat closed the book, setting it aside.

Catherine's POV

"My little girl was being so sweet," I thought, my heart swelling with affection. Even though Erika had her moments of resistance, it was times like this that reminded me of her truly gentle nature. She's my sweet girl now, and I'd do anything to make sure she felt safe and loved.

Yet, seeing her so emotional and vulnerable was concerning. She's been fussy and distressed, a stark contrast to the composed and strong-willed girl I knew her to be. Perhaps it was repressed emotions bubbling to the surface, a mix of stress, homesickness, and the pressure she placed on herself. Whatever the cause, I knew I had to be there for her, to help her navigate through this difficult time.

"Let's eat some lunch," I suggested, hoping that some nourishment might help her feel better.

Erika nodded weakly, clearly still feeling the effects of her illness. I gently lifted her into my arms, feeling her relax slightly against me as I carried her to the kitchen. She moved slowly, her steps unsteady, but I held her close, ensuring she didn't fall. Once we reached the kitchen, I settled her into a chair at the table.

"Stay here, sweetheart. I'll make us something light," I said, giving her a reassuring smile.

I moved around the kitchen, preparing a simple meal of soup and sandwiches. I wanted to make something easy on her stomach yet nutritious enough to help her regain some strength. As the soup simmered on the stove, I kept glancing over at Erika. She looked pale and tired, her eyes drooping.

Once everything was ready, I set the table and brought a bowl of soup and half a sandwich over to Erika. I could see the hesitation in her eyes, the reluctance to eat.

"Here you go, monkey," I said softly, placing the bowl and sandwich in front of her. "Let's try to get some food in you, okay?"

Erika looked at the food, then up at me, her eyes filled with uncertainty. "I don't feel good," she whispered.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Just a little bit," I encouraged, taking a spoonful of soup and bringing it to her lips. "Open up for me."

She hesitated but eventually parted her lips, allowing me to feed her the spoonful of soup. She swallowed slowly, her face scrunching up slightly as she did.

"Good girl," I praised, gently wiping the corner of her mouth with a napkin. "Just a little more, okay?"

I continued to feed her, taking my time and making sure she didn't feel rushed. She managed to eat a few more spoonfuls of soup and a small bite of the sandwich before shaking her head.

"That's enough," she said weakly, turning her head away from the spoon.

"That's fine, honey. You did well," I reassured her, setting the bowl aside. "How about we go outside for some fresh air? It might make you feel better."

She nodded, her eyes glistening at the suggestion. I wrapped the blanket more securely around her shoulders and lifted her gently into my arms again. We walked slowly to the garden, the cool breeze gently brushing against our faces.

I guided her to a comfortable spot on the garden bench, where we sat together. The fresh air seemed to invigorate her a bit, and she leaned against me, resting her head on my shoulder.

"Feeling better?" I asked again, stroking her hair.

"A little," she admitted. "The fresh air helps."

I smiled at her reassurance of my suggestions. Mommy knows best. We sat in companionable silence, the sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling in the breeze creating a soothing backdrop. I felt her relax against me, her breathing becoming more even.

"So, what's on your mind, monkey?" I asked gently. "You've been awfully quiet."

Erika sighed, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket I had wrapped around her. "Nothing," she mumbled, avoiding my gaze.

"Come on, honey," I coaxed softly. "I can tell something's bothering you. You know you can talk to me."

She shook her head stubbornly. "I'm fine. Just tired."

I could see the tension in her shoulders and the way her eyes darted away from mine. "It's okay to talk about what's bothering you," I said gently. "It might help to get it off your chest."

She remained silent, her lips pressed into a thin line. I knew pushing too hard could make her retreat further, so I decided to give her a little more space.

"Alright," I said softly. "Just know that I'm here whenever you're ready to talk."

We sat in silence for a few more minutes, the gentle rustling of the leaves and the chirping of birds filling the air. I hoped the peaceful environment would help her feel more at ease.

After a while, Erika spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... everything feels so overwhelming sometimes. I thought coming here would be different, that I could start fresh. But sometimes it feels like I'm just carrying all my old problems with me."

I nodded, trying to show her that I understood. "That's a lot to deal with, especially on your own. You know you don't have to carry all that weight by yourself, right?"

She looked up at me, her eyes reflecting a mixture of hope and doubt. "I've never been so dependent, so emotional." A bright blush washes over her face, "I've never wet the bed." She whispered.

I felt a pang of guilt knowing I'm one of the causes of her distress, but it had to be done. It will all be worthwhile.

"Being strong doesn't mean you have to handle everything alone," I said, squeezing her hand gently. "It's okay to lean on others, to ask for help. That doesn't make you weak; it makes you human."

She sniffled, a small tear escaping down her cheek. "It's just... my mother always made me feel like I had to be perfect. Like any sign of weakness was unacceptable."

My heart ached for her. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Monkey. But you don't have to be perfect here. It's okay to have bad days, to cry, to need support. I'm here for you, no matter what."

She nodded, but I could see the hesitation in her eyes. Erika looked down, her tears falling more freely now. "Thank you, mommy. It's just hard to believe sometimes."

"I understand," I said, pulling her closer into a big hug. "But I'll keep reminding you until you do. You're not alone anymore."

We sat like that for a while, Erika's tears gradually subsiding as she clung to me. The fresh air seemed to be doing her good, and I could feel the tension slowly easing out of her body.

"Do you miss home?" I asked after a while, trying to gauge her feelings.

"Sometimes," she admitted. "But other times, I feel like I'm better off here. It's just... a lot to adjust to."

"I'm sure it is," I agreed. "But you're doing a great job. You're strong and resilient, and you're making your own way. I'm proud of you for that."

She gave me a small, tentative smile. "Thanks. That means a lot."

We talked a bit more, about school, her friends, and her plans for the future. I could see her spirits lifting with each passing minute, her confidence slowly returning.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, I suggested we head back inside. "Let's get you settled back in bed," I said, lifting her into my arms once again. "You need to rest, monkey."

Erika sighed but didn't protest, allowing me to carry her back to the house. "Okay, Mommy," she said softly, resting her head on my shoulder.

I tucked her back into bed, ensuring she was comfortable. "I'll be right here if you need anything," I promised, brushing a kiss on her forehead.

"Thank you again," she murmured, already half-asleep. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," I whispered, sitting beside her and holding her hand. "Just rest now. I'm here."

As the evening approached, I knew it was time to wake Erika and get her ready for dinner. I gently shook her shoulder, whispering softly, "Erika, honey, it's time to wake up."

She stirred slowly, blinking her eyes open. "Cat?" she mumbled, her voice groggy.

"No it's mommy, monkey. It's time to eat," I said, smiling down at her. "But first, let's check your pull-up and get you changed, okay?"

Erika, even in her dreary state, cheeks burned with embarrassment. She turned away so I couldn't check. Luckily she was sick. I was faster and carefully checked her pull-up.

"You didn't have an accident." I said, kissing her forehead.

I carried her to the nursery and put her on the changing table. Erika immediately tensed, her face turning bright red. "I can do it myself," she said, her voice tinged with embarrassment.

"Sweetheart, let me help you," I replied gently, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You're still not feeling well."

She shook her head, her eyes filling with a mix of frustration and shame. "I'm not a baby, Cat. I can change myself."

I sighed softly, understanding her resistance but knowing she needed support. "You're my baby, honey. Also remember it's mommy."

With a reluctant nod, Erika allowed me to help her. I carefully changed her into a new pull-up, making sure it was snug but not too tight. She squirmed a little, her face still flushed with embarrassment.

"All done," I said softly, fastening the last button on her clean onesie. "Let's get you to the kitchen for some dinner."

Once she was ready, I carried her to the kitchen, her arms wrapped around my neck. She held on tightly, her head resting on my shoulder. "You don't have to carry me," she mumbled, her voice muffled against my shirt.

"I want to," I replied, kissing the top of her head. "I want to take care of you."

She sighed, but her grip tightened slightly, and I felt a small sense of relief that she was accepting my help, even if reluctantly.

In the kitchen, I settled her into a chair and placed a plate of chicken soup and crackers in front of her. "Here you go, sweetie," I said, picking up a spoon.

Erika looked at the spoon, then at me, her eyes still showing signs of resistance. "I can do it myself," she insisted again, though her voice was softer this time.

"I know you can," I replied gently.

She bit her lip and nodded, allowing me to feed her. I carefully spooned the soup into her mouth, making sure each bite was manageable and not too hot. Erika ate slowly, her eyes occasionally meeting mine.

"You're doing great," I reassured her between bites. "Just a little more."

She finished the soup and nibbled on the crackers, her appetite returning slowly. "Thank you," she said quietly, her voice steadier now.

"You're welcome, monkey," I said, brushing a stray hair from her forehead. "Now, let's get you ready for bed."

I carried her back to the nursery, her head resting on my shoulder. Once inside, I gently changed her into another cozy sleeping onesie, the soft fabric warm against her skin. "There we go, all set," I said, fastening the last button.

I settled into the rocking chair, cradling Erika in my arms. "I have something for you," I whispered, reaching for the bottle of warm milk I had just pumped. "This will help you sleep."

She looked at the bottle, then back at me, her eyes widening with resistance. "I don't need that," she said, her voice firm despite her obvious fatigue.

I sighed softly, understanding her reluctance but knowing she needed the comfort. "I know, baby. This is just to help you relax and get some rest. You've had a rough day."

She bit her lip, glancing at the bottle again. "I can sleep without it," she insisted, though her voice wavered slightly.

I brushed a strand of hair from her face and kissed her forehead. "It's just warm milk, sweetie. It will help you feel better. I promise."

After a moment of hesitation, she sighed and nodded reluctantly. "Okay," she said softly, finally relaxing against me.

I placed the bottle's nipple to her lips, and after a brief pause, she began to suckle gently. Her eyes slowly closed, the rhythmic rocking of the chair and the warmth of the milk soothing her. I felt her body gradually relax in my arms.

"Good girl," I murmured, humming a soft lullaby as she drank. "You're safe and sound."

As the last of the milk disappeared, Erika's eyes fluttered shut, and her breathing became deep and even. I continued to rock her gently, my own eyelids growing heavy.

Before long, I too drifted off, still holding Erika close. The rocking chair swayed gently in the dim light of the nursery, a peaceful cocoon for both of us.

Throughout the night, I woke occasionally, ensuring Erika was still comfortable and secure in my arms. Each time, I found her still asleep, a content expression on her face. I couldn't help but smile, feeling a deep sense of fulfillment and love.