Chapter 5
816 Words
Lena’s POV
By the third morning in the townhouse, I’d memorized every creaky floorboard between Mateo’s room and the kitchen.
He was an early riser. Always just before six. Like clockwork. Like he knew I needed to be awake for him to need me.
I didn’t mind.
I brewed coffee while he played in his baby swing, babbling at the ceiling like he had something urgent to say. I caught myself smiling as I filled his bottle, listening to him narrate his tiny universe.
We’d found a rhythm. Not perfect. Not easy. But real.
And today, things changed again.
I opened my laptop to a message from my internship supervisor confirming my start date: Tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. sharp. We’re excited to have you join us, Lena.
It was real now. The program wasn’t just about parenting it was about growing. Building futures. Gaining experience.
Our coordinators had said it in the first session: This doesn’t pause your life. It expands it. We were allowed to do online classes, schedule internships, even receive credits and exemptions. As long as we kept up with Mateo’s needs, we could still chase our own goals.
And I wanted that. I wanted both.
Still, my throat tightened when I looked over at Mateo, now kicking his feet like he’d discovered them for the first time.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I told him softly.
Even if I had to step out, he’d still be mine. Ours.
That afternoon, I pushed Mateo in his stroller down the sidewalk toward Callie and Logan’s townhouse. It was just two units away, but it felt like another world.
Callie met me in the backyard, already lounging on a blanket in a sunbeam like a cat.
“You made it,” she said, grinning. “Your mom era is glowing.”
I laughed. “I haven’t washed my hair in two days and I forgot how zippers work this morning.”
“So basically: thriving.”
Mateo cooed from the stroller. Callie leaned over him with a soft smile.
“He’s really cute, Lena.”
“Yeah,” I said, brushing a hand over his head. “He really is.”
She hesitated. “You okay? I mean… really?”
I sat down beside her and watched Logan through the glass door inside he was wrestling a toy dinosaur from the hands of their assigned toddler, who was gleefully screaming like it was a battle cry.
“I’m more okay than I thought I’d be,” I said truthfully. “I didn’t think I’d feel this much so fast.”
Callie nodded, silent.
There was something gentle in the quiet between us. Not heavy. Just full.
“It’s weird,” I added. “We’re not his forever home. But I don’t feel like this is temporary.”
She looked over at me. “Maybe that’s because what you’re giving him is real. Even if it’s for a season.”
I swallowed hard.
“I think about his birth parents a lot,” I admitted. “How they could walk away. How scared they must’ve been. Or tired. Or… whatever it was. And then I look at him, and I just” My voice cracked. “He didn’t ask for any of this. But he still laughs. Still looks for me when he hears my voice.”
Callie reached out and squeezed my hand.
“You’re showing up,” she said. “That counts for everything.”
We sat there while the sun dropped lower behind the trees. Logan came out eventually and joined us, his shirt covered in Play-Doh and cracker dust.
“Parenting is wild,” he declared. “I’ve negotiated peace treaties between tiny dictators all day.”
Callie snorted. “Lena’s got a baby. At least Mateo doesn’t talk back yet.”
“Yet,” I echoed.
They both looked at me.
And I realized I wasn’t outside my life looking in anymore.
I was in it.
That night, after Mateo went down and the dishes were drying in the rack, I sat with Ethan at the kitchen table, laptops open, calendars spread out.
We were building something.
Routine. Responsibility. A version of the future.
“I’ve got my internship three mornings a week,” I said, pointing. “And my online classes are flexible, so I can do most of them during naps or evenings.”
“I’ve got afternoons off this semester,” he added. “I can take the mornings you’re out.”
It was simple coordination. But it felt like trust.
Like a life.
When he looked at me, his expression was soft. Familiar.
“We’re doing this,” he said.
I nodded. “Yeah. We are.”
And I knew, deep in my chest, that I was never going to be the same.
Because this baby this boy I didn’t give birth tohad already changed everything.
- Writer
