I stood in silence for a while in front of the bottle warmer, not realizing how long I’ve heated the bottle for Rosie. How do you even know if it’s warm enough? I have so much to learn. Yesterday I was worried about work and if my apartment is clean enough, or if I look decent enough to go to a club, and today, I’m worried about a bottle being too hot or cold for a baby. I wonder where the kiss would’ve led if Rosie didn’t start crying? Would I have given in and slept with Griffin? I think at that moment I didn’t care, and that’s the problem. I can’t think straight when I’m around him. Okay, I think the bottle is warm enough. I close the lid and walked upstairs. I started giggling when I got close to the room, listing how Griffin attempts to sing to Rosie but fails miserably. That’s not ev
