Naomi POV
Most times I tend to define myself as a lover of peace and a very polite and respectful person till situations like this arise.
Plus the fact that my baby controls my actions and right now it is clamoring for war.
My poor baby woke up and chose violence.
Elena is teething. She has been crying for three days straight. Nothing helps. Not the cold teething ring. Not the gel. Not the rocking. Not the singing.
She just cries.
And cries.
And cries.
I sit in the nursery, holding her against my chest. Her face is red. Her tiny fists are balled up.
“Please, baby. Please stop.”
She does not stop.
Mary brings tea. I do not drink it.
Kaelen pokes his head in. “Is she still crying?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to take her?”
“No.”
“Naomi—“
“I said no.”
He holds up his hands. He ba
