Chapter 18
747 Words
Lena’s POV
Mateo spit up on my only cute top ten minutes before I was supposed to leave.
Of course he did.
I was already running on four hours of sleep, half a granola bar, and exactly zero patience. And the fact that Ethan was just sitting at the table, sipping his coffee like a smug sitcom dad, was not helping.
“Want me to hold him while you change?” he asked, holding his hands out for Mateo.
I handed over the baby, but not without a look. “He’s your baby too, you don’t have to act like it’s charity.”
“Just trying to help,” he said, bouncing Mateo lightly on his hip. “You’re the one who insists on looking nice for your unpaid labor.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s called professionalism.”
“It’s called trying to impress Nolan,” he muttered into his mug.
I froze mid-step.
“What?” I asked, spinning back toward him, but he didn’t meet my eyes.
“Nothing.”
Oh. Okay. That’s what we were doing today.
I changed into a wrinkled-but-passable sweater, ran a brush through my hair, and came back to find Ethan laying on the floor with Mateo, holding up a rattle like it was the most fascinating object on Earth.
He didn’t look up when I grabbed my bag.
“I’ll be back before six,” I said, zipping my coat. “There’s breast milk in the fridge and the formula’s labeled.”
“I know,” he said flatly. “It’s not my first day, Lena.”
I wanted to bite back something petty and sharp but then Mateo giggled at him, like he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world.
And my heart kind of broke and swelled at the same time.
“Text me if anything feels off,” I said softer.
He nodded once, still focused on the baby.
I closed the door behind me, but the knot in my stomach stayed.
The office was chilly and over-organized. Nolan greeted me with that crooked grin again the one that made me feel slightly more like a human and less like a walking burp rag.
“Hey, you made it,” he said, handing me a cup of tea. “It’s decaf. Because I remembered you said caffeine messes with Mateo’s sleep.”
Okay. That was… sweet.
We worked side by side most of the morning. It was easy, predictable. He laughed at my bad jokes. He asked questions that didn’t feel like tests. And when he asked if I wanted to grab tacos after work again, I hesitated for half a second before saying yes.
He wasn’t Ethan.
Which, honestly, was kind of the point.
When I got home, the house was unusually quiet. I tiptoed in, half expecting a disaster.
Instead, I found Ethan in the living room with Mateo on his chest, both of them fast asleep. The bottle was still in Ethan’s hand. A pacifier was dangling off the couch cushion. They looked peaceful. Like maybe the day hadn’t been awful at all.
I didn’t want to wake them.
But I did want to look at them for just a few more seconds.
Then Ethan’s eyes cracked open, and I almost jumped.
“Oh,” I said awkwardly. “Didn’t mean to stare.”
He didn’t move. Just blinked slowly. “You were gone longer than usual.”
“We grabbed dinner. Pizza.”
He sat up gently so Mateo wouldn’t stir. “Right. With Nolan.”
I crossed my arms. “Why do you say his name like it’s a disease?”
“I don’t,” he said casually. Too casually.
I wanted to fight. Or laugh. Or do anything except stand there like I was fourteen and caught in a weird not-quite-a-love triangle.
“You think I shouldn’t date,” I said.
“I think you should do whatever you want,” he replied.
But his voice cracked. Barely. Just enough for me to hear it.
I didn’t know what to say to that. So I took Mateo from his arms and kissed the top of his head.
He smelled like formula and baby shampoo and Ethan’s cologne.
“You did good today,” I told him. And I meant it.
Ethan didn’t say anything. Just watched me for a beat too long.
And when I turned to take Mateo upstairs, I felt his eyes still on me.
- Writer
