Chapter 13
628 Words
Lena’s POV
I didn’t sleep.
It wasn’t just the envelope or the picture or the weird sense of dread that came with holding something that clearly wasn’t meant to be understood all at once it was everything. It was Ethan’s face when I opened it. The way he looked like he’d been sucker-punched but still didn’t try to take it from me.
At 2:13 a.m., Mateo started fussing, and I didn’t even hesitate. I beat Ethan to the bassinet by at least five seconds, which felt like a tiny, unspoken victory.
“I got him,” I whispered, even though Ethan hadn’t moved.
He made a soft noise from the couch but didn’t argue.
Mateo smelled like formula and baby shampoo and something a little sour I didn’t want to question. I changed his diaper in the dim light of my phone screen, warmed a bottle with the same caution I used diffusing a bomb, and then curled up on the glider with him tucked against my chest like he belonged there.
He did. God, he did.
“You’re not just some temporary baby,” I whispered, pressing my lips to the soft fuzz of his hair. “You’re mine for as long as I can keep you.”
He didn’t answer. Obviously. But he blinked up at me like he knew something. Like he got it.
By the time the sun started coming up, I hadn’t slept a second. But Mateo had three straight hours, which felt like an actual miracle.
When Ethan finally shuffled into the kitchen around 7 a.m., I was already on my second cup of coffee and watching Mateo gnaw aggressively on his stuffed octopus.
“You’re up early,” he said, rubbing his eyes.
“I never went to sleep.”
He gave me a long look but didn’t push. Just poured his own coffee and stood next to me while the baby made tiny squeaky noises.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
“Not with you half-asleep and shirtless.”
He smirked. “Fair.”
But I did want to talk. Just not yet. Not before I could make sense of the photo. The hospital bracelet. The what ifs clawing at the inside of my skull.
Instead, I texted Callie.
Me:
Can we talk? Like, today? Now? I’ll bring bagels. And secrets.
She answered five seconds later.
Callie:
You had me at bagels.
Two hours later, I was in Callie’s kitchen, Mateo asleep in the carrier strapped to my chest like a little burrito.
I pulled out the envelope, the photo, the bracelet. Callie’s eyes widened.
“What the hell.”
“Exactly.”
We spread everything out on the counter like we were solving a crime and maybe we were.
“I think it’s from his birth mom,” I said. “Again. But this time… it’s like she wants us to know something.”
Callie frowned at the bracelet photo. “That doesn’t look like a hospital picture someone would just take. That looks like someone snuck it.”
“Right?!” I felt wild and a little sleep deprived, but also weirdly validated.
Callie tilted her head. “Lena… what if she’s not just dropping hints?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if she wants you to find her?”
I stared at her, heart racing.
That was the part I hadn’t let myself say out loud. But now that she had, it felt terrifying and kind of inevitable.
“Then I have to decide if I want to,” I said.
Mateo stirred against me. I looked down and rubbed his back gently, and he settled again like I was his whole world.
And maybe, for now, I was.
- Writer
