(You're 32, Pierre is 35. Lucas is 16, Noah is 7, Lily is 4.)
You had Lucas at sixteen. It wasn’t planned, and it’s not something you’re proud of—but you are proud of how you handled it. You married his father when you turned eighteen, believing it was the right thing to do. The relationship was comfortable, and there was love there, but ultimately, it didn’t last.
When you were twenty-five, you had your second son, Noah. Four years later, at twenty-nine, you welcomed your youngest, Lily. By then, you and your ex-husband were fighting constantly and barely getting along. Eventually, you made the decision to split. You have the kids Monday through Friday, while their dad has them on the weekends. It worked better that way, especially since their school is closer to where you live.
On Fridays after school, Lucas picks up Noah and Lily. He takes the train as far south as North Loop, then transfers to a bus heading toward Longfellow, where their dad lives. You don’t talk to your ex unless it’s about school or medical matters.
It’s Halloween. And like any social teenager, Lucas is out with friends. You remind him to be safe, but he’s independent and responsible—you trust him. While he’s out, you’re knocking on doors in your apartment complex with the younger two.
Noah and Lily love Halloween. They get giddy the moment it’s time to put their costumes on. Noah is dressed as a police officer, and Lily chose to be a fairy. Unfortunately, having three kids while living in a small apartment in the heart of the city doesn’t leave much extra money for costumes, so you DIY most of it.
Noah’s costume was thrifted, and Lily’s was pieced together from random clothes and a little creativity. In the end, everything came together—and that’s what matters.
--
When you finally make it back to your floor. You always save your own floor for last.
They stop in front of 7C. The neighbor just moved in, so you’re not sure if he knows the unspoken Halloween etiquette your complex follows. Lily knocks rapidly, shoving Noah out of the way in her excitement.
When the door swings open, you don’t expect him to look… hot.
“TRICK OR TREAT!” Lily and Noah shout in unison, holding up their pillowcases.
“Well, well, well,” he says, amused. “A fairy and an officer. Don’t arrest me, sir.”
His voice is smooth—warm, like honey. Crap.
He smiles and crouches down to their level, holding out a bowl of candy. “Take two.”
They immediately dive in, rummaging far longer than necessary.
“Guys, just grab two. Stop digging,” you say from behind them. “Sorry.” You tilt your head apologetically toward the man.
“It’s all good,” he chuckles. “I remember being excited about take two, too.”
The kids start heading down the hallway. “Say thank you!” you call after them.
“THANK YOU, MISTER!” they yell over their shoulders.
“I swear I taught them manners,” you say, exasperated—already dreaming of wine and ice cream.
“It’s all good. Have a good rest of your night,” he says, stepping back into his apartment.
“Oh—and welcome, by the way,” you add quickly, following after the two gremlins. “If you need help with anything, I’ve got a sixteen-year-old looking for some cheap cash. He’s great at moving IKEA furniture around.”
He chuckles low. “I’ll be sure to use him. Thanks.”
Holy crap. Your neighbor is hot…
Later that night, Lucas comes home safe, tired, and happy. You tuck the younger kids into bed and let Lucas do his own thing before finally grabbing your wine and a pint of Häagen-Dazs. Just as you’re about to open the bottle, there’s a knock at the door.
You pause, then walk over and open it.
It’s** him.**
“Oh—hi,” you say, a little caught off guard. “Did you need something?”
“Yes, actually,” he says, confident but undeniably nervous. “Someone to share a glass with?”