Room 568

Before Alberta. Before hotel Room 568. Before late-night drives, Ring Pop proposals, and reckless decisions disguised as love… There was Aston. And there was Jessica. And somewhere between them stood a little boy named Carson who just wanted somebody to stay. Aston’s life had become painfully repetitive long before Jessica entered it. Wake up. Work. Drive home. Shower. Scroll his phone until exhaustion won. Repeat. At twenty-seven years old, Aston already carried himself like someone older. Not because he looked old — he didn’t. He was tall, broad-shouldered, tattooed lightly along one arm, messy dark hair that somehow always looked good no matter how little effort he put into it. But emotionally? Life wore him down quietly. He worked long shifts mopping hospital floors at a factory eight hours away from where Jessica lived. The work itself was loud, repetitive, and physically exhausting. Conveyor belts. Heavy lifting. Machines humming endlessly for entire shifts under bright warehouse lights. The kind of job where conversations were short because everybody was too tired to care. The kind of job where people survived on nicotine, caffeine, and complaining. Aston fit in there well enough. Too well maybe. Most coworkers assumed he enjoyed being alone because he rarely talked much about his personal life. Truthfully, Aston stopped letting people get too close years ago. Too many disappointments. Too many people leaving. Too many relationships that started intensely and ended cold. So he built a smaller life instead. Smaller expectations. Smaller risks. his apartment reflected that perfectly. Minimal furniture. Grey walls. Gaming console. Laundry chair that held more clothes than the closet did. A fridge stocked mostly with energy drinks, beer, leftover takeout, and whatever frozen food could survive a microwave. It was not a sad life exactly. Just empty sometimes. Especially at night. Because nighttime forced honesty. That was when the loneliness crept in. Not dramatic loneliness. Quiet loneliness. The kind where you instinctively reach for your phone hoping somebody thought about you today. Most nights nobody did. Until Jessica. Jessica’s world looked completely different from Aston’s. Messier. Louder. Warmer. At twenty-five, she no longer lived for herself alone. Every decision revolved around Carson now. Carson’s school. Carson’s meals. Carson’s moods. Carson’s future. Motherhood aged Jessica too — but differently. Not emotionally numb like Aston. Just tired. She lived with constant motion around her. Toys on the floor. Laundry baskets half folded. Dishes in the sink five minutes after cleaning them. School forms forgotten on counters. Random cartoons blasting in the background while trying to cook dinner. There was always something. Jessica loved her son more than anything in the world. But some nights, after Carson finally fell asleep, she sat quietly on the couch staring at nothing wondering where she disappeared in all of it. Because before motherhood… Before failed relationships… Before disappointment hardened parts of her… Jessica used to imagine a different life. one where love stayed. One where effort was mutual. One where somebody looked at her like she mattered enough not to leave. Instead, life taught her independence. The hard way. Carson’s father still existed in their lives technically, but not in the way Jessica once imagined family would look. Shared custody felt more like scheduled survival than partnership. So Jessica learned to carry things herself. Stress. Bills. Parenting. Heartbreak. All of it. Her parents helped when they could. Especially her mother Ellie. But deep down Jessica hated needing help sometimes. She wanted stability. She wanted safety. And secretly? She wanted somebody to love her loudly enough that she stopped questioning whether she deserved it. She stopped admitting that part out loud though. Then one random night she met Aston online. Completely by accident. One message became two. Two became an entire night awake talking. Jessica still remembered laughing at something stupid Aston said at nearly three in the morning while Carson slept down the hallway. Most online conversations died quickly. This one didn’t. The strange part was how natural it felt immediately. Aston flirted shamelessly. Jessica flirted right back. But underneath the teasing there was something else neither expected. Comfort. They talked about everything. Music. Childhood memories. Ex relationships. Dreams they stopped believing in. Sometimes the conversations turned s****l. Other nights they became strangely emotional without warning. Jessica would sit cross-legged in bed smiling at her phone while Aston laid alone on his couch rereading her messages like an i***t. Every single day they spoke more. Morning texts turned into afternoon calls. Afternoon calls became late-night FaceTimes. Jessica learned Aston’s laugh changed when he was genuinely nervous. Aston learned Jessica played with her hair whenever she got embarrassed. Small details started mattering. Dangerous details. Then came Carson. At first Jessica tried keeping those worlds separate. Aston was hers. Carson was her responsibility. But Carson noticed things quickly. Especially changes in Jessica. One night he walked into the living room while Jessica smiled down at her phone. “Who are you texting?” “Nobody.” “That’s not true" Jessica looked up immediately amused. “Yes it is." Carson pointed dramatically. “You’re doing your happy face.” “My what?” “Your happy face,” he repeated confidently. “The one you do when you like somebody.” Jessica burst out laughing immediately. “You’re too smart.” “I know.” Carson was eight years old and somehow both exhausting and lovable at the same time. Energetic. Opinionated. Funny without trying. He asked questions nonstop and somehow always managed to appear exactly when adults started private conversations. He loved video games, junk food, cartoons, and pretending he hated hugs despite secretly loving them. Jessica worried constantly about who entered his life. Kids got attached too easily. And she refused to let random men drift through his childhood creating confusion. That alone should have scared her away from Aston. But Aston felt different early on. Not because he was perfect. He wasn’t. He overthought everything. Got distant when scared. Used humor to avoid vulnerability. But he listened. Really listened. And Jessica realized something quietly terrifying after weeks of talking to him. She looked forward to him more than anyone else. Meanwhile Aston found himself rushing through work just to hear Jessica’s voice afterward. His coworkers noticed eventually. “You smiling at your phone again?” one asked during break. Aston immediately locked it. “No.” “Liar.” Aston smirked despite himself. Maybe he was caught. Because somewhere between late-night conversations and accidental emotional attachment… A lonely factory worker and an exhausted single mother slowly became the center of each other’s worlds. Neither realized yet how much that would change their lives. Or how far they would eventually go for each other.