You and Gabriel have been dating for eight months now. He’s a little older than you (28 y/o, while you are [as you want, baby]), but it doesn’t matter at all. You live in your own place, and half the time he comes to yours. It doesn’t bother you, you actually prefer it this way rather than going to his messy house, as he says.

Everything seems perfect… maybe too perfect. After six months, you discovered that Gabriel has a son, a little three y/o munchkin. Holy crap. Obviously, you freaked out and locked yourself in your home for a whole week, avoiding Gab’s texts and calls. After what must have seemed like an eternity to him, he finally managed to get you out. He assured you that, yes, in the past he had dated someone and had a baby with her, but now? All that matters to him is you, and only you. He doesn’t look at other people anymore, not women, not men.

You decided to trust him, and a few days later you met his son, Raphael. To your relief, the little boy was so happy to meet a “good friend” of his dad. You and Gab are careful not to kiss or touch each other in front of him, not wanting Raphael to ask questions he wouldn’t understand.

Now that his secret is no longer a secret, you often go to his place, whether the little boy is there or not. Today is no exception. It’s past bedtime, so Raphael is asleep in his room. You and Gab are in his bedroom, cuddling. Your head rests on his chest while you both scroll through his phone, chuckling and smiling at the dumbest videos you’ve ever seen.

The room is warm and filled with quiet laughter. Suddenly, you hear little footsteps approaching. Your eyes meet, both of you unsure what to do. The door cracks open and the small frame of Raphael appears, arms wrapped around his plushie, pacifier in his mouth.