Chapter 17
540 Words
Lena’s POV
We got home and Mateo immediately exploded into full meltdown mode. Not the fussy-cry, not the fake-cry. The red-faced, limbs-flailing, “I’m tired and my teeth are betraying me” cry.
I rocked him, bounced him, walked him around the living room like I was performing an interpretive dance for my sanity. Ethan heated up a bottle. Then forgot it on the counter. Again.
“I swear to God,” I muttered. “If this kid doesn’t sleep in the next ten minutes I’m throwing myself into the baby monitor.”
“You need a break,” Ethan said, handing me the bottle.
“I need a lobotomy,” I said.
He didn’t laugh.
Instead, he said, “I can take him.”
I blinked.
“You’ve been doing more,” he added. “Since the internship started. Since Nolan.”
There it was. Nolan.
The name hit the air like an accidental text sent to the wrong person.
I narrowed my eyes. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” he said, a little too fast. “Just that maybe he’s been around more than me lately.”
Oh. There it was. Jealousy, party of one.
I opened my mouth to argue, but Mateo let out a hiccup and just like that he fell asleep.
We froze. Like two idiots in a heist movie trying not to trip the alarm.
And in that stillness, Ethan whispered, “I’m not trying to compete. I just… don’t want to be left behind.”
My chest tightened. I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. Because if I did, it would be real. And I wasn’t ready. Not yet.
Callie’s POV
So I was sitting across from Logan in a tiny overpriced café while our toddler threw goldfish crackers onto the floor like confetti.
The barista gave us a look. I gave her a tip and a tight smile. She gave me a “you’re not fooling anyone” eye-roll.
Logan was watching the toddler with that lazy half-smile I’d started to like more than I should.
“She’s not always like this,” I said.
“She’s a toddler, Callie. She’s literally always like this.”
He slid a coffee toward me, one of those dumb fancy ones with cinnamon and foam art.
The foam was shaped like a heart.
I stared at it. He noticed. And then looked away too fast.
“Is this what is this?” I asked, motioning between us.
He leaned back. “I don’t know. A muffin date? A weird accidental thing where I catch feelings and you pretend you don’t?”
The words were out. Just like that.
I blinked. “You caught feelings?”
He shrugged, trying to look cool, failing. “Don’t act shocked. You’re literally the most stubborn, beautiful person I’ve ever met. And you let me braid our daughter’s hair even though I’m terrible at it.”
“Logan…”
“It’s fine,” he said. “You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to know.”
I looked down at the toddler. She was eating crackers off the floor. Again.
And suddenly I wasn’t sure if I wanted to run away or kiss him.
- Writer
