Olivia twirled her fork in the steaming pasta, finally sinking into the rickety dining chair she'd bought for twenty dollars at a thrift store. The first bite tasted like triumph. Maybe it wasn't restaurant quality, but it was hot, filling, and—most importantly—she hadn't burned it.
"Victory," she mumbled with a tired grin, balancing Ethan in his baby bouncer beside the table. He gurgled as if agreeing, smacking his tiny fists on the padded seat.
She fed him a bottle while sneaking forkfuls of spaghetti between burps and diaper checks. Motherhood, she decided, was like a game show where you never quite knew what challenge would pop up next.
When the last noodle disappeared from her plate, she pushed her chair back and sighed. "Okay, Ethan, groceries. We're down to one roll of paper towels, and I refuse to live like animals."
A quick glance at the clock told her it was already past six. She'd have to hurry—the little corner store closed early on weeknights. She strapped Ethan carefully into his stroller, tossed her wallet and keys into a diaper bag, and did a quick scan of the kitchen. The pot sat in the sink, the sauce splatters stained the stove, but she didn't have the luxury to care.
Out the door she went, pushing the stroller down the narrow hallway of her building. The old place smelled faintly of paint and fried food. The carpet was worn thin, the wallpaper faded, but it was home. Sort of.
She rounded the corner toward the front entrance, her mind already ticking off the shopping list: milk, bread, wipes, laundry detergent—
And froze.
Standing at the far end of the hall was her landlady, Mrs. Greene, her voice carrying as she gestured toward an open apartment door. "As you can see, it's a two-bedroom, plenty of natural light, and the rent includes heat."
Next to her stood a man. Tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a navy button-up that looked freshly ironed. His hair was dark and slightly messy, like he hadn't bothered with a comb but somehow still pulled it off. Olivia only caught his profile at first, but it was enough to send a strange shiver down her spine.
No. No way.
She pushed the stroller forward a little slower, her stomach tightening.
Mrs. Greene noticed her and waved. "Olivia! Hello, dear. How's little Ethan today?"
Ethan chose that exact moment to spit up a tiny bubble of drool, which Olivia wiped quickly with the edge of his blanket. "He's… good," she answered, her eyes never leaving the man beside her landlady.
He turned at the sound of her voice. And that's when her heart nearly dropped into her shoes.
It was him.
The last person she ever expected to see standing in her apartment building, let alone moving in as her neighbor.
Her breath caught, the grocery list slipping from her mind like sand through her fingers.
She gripped the stroller handle tighter, her pulse racing as memories rushed back, uninvited and overwhelming.
There he was.
The man she thought she'd left behind.