AIDAN
In all my thirty-four years on planet Earth, I've only considered a handful of people to be perfect, if any. And if one of them had told me that my list of those people would include the eight-year-old that was currently sleeping in my arms, I would have laughed in their faces.
She was perfect in every goddamn way, and I still couldn't believe that she was mine. That she was my daughter. My flesh and blood.
Hours with her felt like minutes, which was why I was currently struggling to hand her over to her mother.
"Thank you so much for keeping an eye on her, Aidan. I hope she didn't stress you out too much or try to burn down your place?" Tara asked, chuckling nervously, and I only shook my head.
"She was good like she promised."
"Okay, good," Tara breathed, and me
