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I couldn’t blame him.

What made it worse was he was standing in the middle of our bedroom feeding Carter while he cussed my ass out.

Our bedroom.

“Keith, it’s more complicated than that.”

“Is it, Avery?”

“Yes!”

“How?”

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.

“Exactly.”

Carter stopped drinking her bottle and Keith immediately looked down.

“Come on, mama. Eat.”

He adjusted her against his chest, rubbed her cheek with his thumb and put the bottle back to her mouth.

That shit made my chest hurt.

Because he loved her.

He really fucking loved Carter.

Keith looked back at me.

“Look at this shit.”

He motioned between himself and Carter.

“I love this little girl. Been loving her. Taking care of her. Getting up with her. Buying whatever the fuck she need. I moved both of y’all into my crib.”

“I know.”

“Nah, Avery. You don’t.”

“I do!”

“The whole fucking time I’m thinking her uncle standing next to her at family functions and this nigga is her motherfucking FATHER!”

I couldn’t say anything.

Because what the fuck was there to say?

“And then you pregnant again.”

“Keith—”

“Nah. We getting to that shit too.”

He laughed, but there wasn’t anything funny behind it.