Kate lifted her swimming gaze to Richard's only to find his on her, damp with his own tears. In that moment she loved him more than she ever had. "She's so beautiful," Kate whispered. "So perfect." "You're perfect. You're beautiful together." Emotion choked her. For long moments she couldn't speak. When she found her voice, all she thought of to say was thank you.

Kate's first six weeks as a new mother were confusing and exhausting. Caring for Emma consumed her every waking moment-and then some. The infant needed to be fed every few hours; she cried often and it seemed to Kate, for no reason at all.

Those times, Kate walked the floor with her, bounced her or sang softly as she rocked her in the big chair Richard had bought her. Still Emma cried.

Frustrated and insecure, Kate wept with her. She wasn't meant to be a mother, she thought. There was something wrong with her, something missing in her womanly makeup that left her unable to nurture a baby. Maybe that's why she had been unable to conceive. Maybe nature had been telling her something.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, Emma's crying stopped. And she smiled. Not just any smile, not just at anything. Or anyone. No, she had gazed into Kate's eyes with total trust and presented her with a beautiful and adoring smile.

A smile meant only for Kate.

In that moment, everything changed. Kate had become Emma's mother, for real and forever. In that moment it was all worth it-the sleep deprivation, the hours walking the floors, her haggard appearance and the self-doubt. In that moment, they all melted away.

Kate gazed down at her sleeping daughter, heart filled to near bursting. She trailed her fingers softly, rhythmically over her silky head. She never got enough of looking at Emma, of holding and touching her. All else in her life slipped away, and she found herself mesmerized by the tiniest changes in the infant's expression.

From downstairs, came the sound of the front door opening, then snapping shut. Richard was home. Doubting that it could be that time already, Kate checked her watch and saw that it was.

She eased out of the rocking chair, careful not to disturb Emma. After settling the baby in her crib, she headed downstairs to greet her husband.

He was in the kitchen, leafing through the day's mail. "Hi, hon," she said, crossing to him.

"Hey." He stopped what he was doing, bent and kissed her. "How was your day?"

"Great. How was yours?"

"Okay. Really busy."

She poured them both a glass of wine, and set his on the counter beside the mail. "Hungry?"

"Starved. I missed lunch."

"That's too bad." She flashed him an apologetic smile. "Hope you don't mind reheated pizza."

"Do I have a choice?"

"Sure." She went to the refrigerator, pulled out the remainder of the previous night's supreme. "A tuna fish sandwich. But I think the bread's growing something fuzzy and green."

Richard said nothing and she went about getting together their meal, meager though it was. "Emma did the most amazing thing today. She laughed out loud." He didn't look up from the mail. "I wish you could have been here. It was so great."

Kate slid the cookie sheet with the pizza on it into the preheated oven. "It wasn't a gurgle or a coo, but a real honest-to-goodness laugh."

He still didn't respond and from the corner of her eyes, she saw him rip open an envelope, scan its contents then frowning, cross to the trash and toss it in.

Kate watched him. "What was that?"

He met her eyes, then looked away. "From the Alumni Association. About an alumni celebrity event."

The way he said the word told her who the celebrity was. She asked anyway. "Who's the star?"

"Who else? The great Luke Dallas. He's giving a lecture and signing copies of his new novel. Pompous prick."

Luke didn't have a pompous bone in his body. She may not have seen him in ten years, but she knew that anyway. "What's eating you?"

He looked up, spoiling, she saw, for a fight. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Why the attitude?"

"Leftover pizza."

She narrowed her eyes. "Sorry, I didn't have time to go to the grocery. I've been a little busy."

"No joke."

"Meaning?"

"That maybe you should make the time."

"It's not as easy as that."

"No?" He folded his arms across his chest. "We could have gone out."

"Not with Emma."

"They do allow babies in restaurants, you know."

"I know. But this is her nap time. I don't like to disturb her. She gets cranky." Kate sucked in a deep breath, working to make light of his comments even though they had angered her. "When your nap is interrupted, you get a little cranky, too."

He made a sound of disgust. "I'll tell you when I get cranky, when I'm fed leftover pizza two days in a row. I get cranky when my wife greets me in the evening in a bathrobe or when the only thing she ever talks about is the baby."

Kate stared at him, so furious suddenly, she wanted to hit him. "You think I like going around all day like this?" She motioned to the baggy sweats and old shirt she had thrown on that morning. "Maybe if you helped out once in a while, I'd have the time to go to the grocery or get dressed in the morning."

"The baby's your responsibility. That's what we decided."

"My responsibility?" She arched her eyebrows. "Oh, I see. What you're saying is, since I'm the primary caregiver, I should never ask you to watch her for a few minutes while I do something else, like take a leisurely shower or run to the market? That I should never hope you'll take one of the 2:00 a.m. feedings so I can get more than three hours of uninterrupted sleep a night?" Her voice cracked. "Or that I should never expect you to want to spend time with her? She's your daughter, too, Richard."

"Is she?"

Kate caught her breath. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He ignored the question, crossed to her and caught her hands. "How about a date, Kate? You know, you and me, candlelight and kisses."

"And sex."

"Since you brought it up, yeah, a little sex. When's the last time we made love? Two weeks ago? Three?" He lowered his voice. "I've missed you. I've missed us."

Tears stung her eyes. "I'm just so tired, Richard. So damned tired all the time. It's hard to feel sexy when-"

The baby monitor crackled as Emma stirred in her crib. Once Emma stirred, Kate knew, she was awake. In a minute she would begin to howl, demanding to be fed.

"Damn," Kate muttered and crossed to the refrigerator. She took out a bottle of formula, loosened the top and popped it in the microwave to warm it. Sure enough, just as the microwave dinged, Emma began to cry.

"Great." Richard dragged a hand through his hair. "Just fucking great."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, snatching out the bottle and tightening the lid. "Let her cry?"

"Yeah, maybe I do."

Kate sucked in a shocked breath. She met his eyes. "I'm going to try to pretend you didn't say that. Excuse me."

Bottle in hand, she strode from the room.

"Kate, wait!" He caught her arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

She looked at him. "No?"

"It's just that I'm…I'm missing you. Missing the way we were. Our life."

Tears flooded her eyes. "Like I said, if you'd help out a little, maybe I'd have a little more time for us."

"Hire someone. It's not like we can't afford it."

She stared at him in disbelief. "I don't want to do that. We've waited too long to be parents to turn over her care to a stranger. Besides, I want you to help out. To hold and feed her, to play with her. You're missing out, Richard. You need to get to know your daughter, she's pretty great."

"I don't have time."

"But you have time for us to go on a date? For us to go out to dinner or away for the weekend?" Upstairs Emma's cries took on a hysterical edge. "Let me go. She needs me."