“Has to be it.” She put Nalla’s clean bottom down and taped up the sides of the Huggies. “Because he won’t talk to me about it.”

“Has he been eating? Feeding?”

Bella shook her head as she did up the snaps on Nalla’s onesie. The thing was pastel pink and had a white skull and crossbones appliquéd on it. “Not much on the food and no on feeding. It’s like…I don’t know, the day she was born, he seemed so amazed and engaged and happy. But then some kind of switch was triggered and he just closed up. It’s almost as bad as it was in the beginning.” She stared down at Nalla, who was patting at the pattern on her little chest. “I’m sorry I asked you to come down here…I just don’t know what else to do.”

“I’m glad you did. I’m always there for you both, you know that.”

Cradling Nalla on her shoulder, she turned around. Phury was leaning against the creamy wall of the nursery, his huge body breaking up the pattern of hand-painted bunnies and squirrels and fawns.

“I don’t want to put you in an awkward position. Or take you away from Cormia unnecessarily.”

“You haven’t.” He shook his head, his multicolored hair gleaming. “If I’m quiet, it’s because I’m trying to think of what the best thing to do is. Talking with him isn’t always the solution.”

“True. But I’m running out of both ideas and patience.” Bella went over and sat in the rocker, repositioning the young in her arms.

Nalla’s brilliant yellow eyes stared up out of her angelic little face, and recognition was in her stare. She knew exactly who was with her…and who wasn’t. The awareness had come in the last week or so. And changed everything.

“He won’t hold her, Phury. He won’t even pick her up.”

“Are you serious?”

Bella’s tears made her daughter’s face wavy. “Damn it, when is this post-partum depression going to lift? I well up at almost nothing.”

“Wait, not even once? He hasn’t gotten her out of the crib or—”