Becca.

Layla and I were dictating to the housekeeper what we needed bought and brought in for the children when James arrived at the door to my suite. He leaned on the doorframe, just watching. Alessandro was on a blanket on the floor, blowing bubbles and kicking his little legs in the air.

Dahlia was under a different, lighter blanket as I breastfed her.

“... Lightweight pacifiers, if you can find them,” Layla was saying. “Alessandro won’t take the ...