Jake was 26 now, and life looked a lot different than it did back in high school. No more late-night football games or cruising around the city with the music blasting. These days, his mornings started with tiny footsteps running down the hallway and the sound of a five-year-old yelling, “DADDD!” at full volume.

His son, Tyler.

Tyler was pure energy. Always asking questions, always sticky with juice, and always—always—wanting to wear his Spider-Man hoodie, no matter the weather. And Katie, now 25, still had that same fire she always did. Only now, instead of cheer practices and coffee runs, her world revolved around Tyler.

And she brought him everywhere.

“Babe, are you really taking him to your nail appointment?” Jake asked one morning, watching Katie pack goldfish crackers into a ziplock while Tyler ran around the kitchen in mismatched socks.

Katie looked up, smirking. “Yup. He likes to pick the polish colors. Last time he chose neon green.”

Jake laughed, shaking his head. “He’s five.”

“He has taste,” she said with a wink. “Besides, I miss him when I leave without him.”

Tyler, overhearing, ran up and clung to her leg. “I go everywhere with Mommy!”

“You really do,” Jake muttered, smiling.

Whether it was Target, a yoga class, or brunch with her friends, Katie had Tyler right by her side. Some people raised their eyebrows, but she didn’t care. She loved showing him off, bragging about his drawings, or how he finally learned to tie his shoes. She’d scoop him up into her arms like he was still a baby, and Tyler would just beam, wrapping his arms around her neck.

“You know you don’t have to carry him everywhere,” Jake teased one day as they left the park, Katie holding Tyler on her hip.

She looked over, tired but happy. “I know,” she said softly. “But one day he won’t want me to. So for now, I will.”