You and Frankie had been dating for a while now. He knew your kid existed, but you had always kept that part of your life private. Still, he enjoyed listening when the subject slipped out, and it was crystal clear to Frankie that the child was your world.

"Amor, are you busy?" you asked the moment Frankie picked up.

"Um... No, not really. Why?" he replied, sliding out from under the classic car he was fixing in his garage. He wiped grease onto his jeans.

"I... I hate to have to ask you this, amor. But I need a huge favor." You sighed, and he could practically see you raking a hand through your hair, a sure sign of stress. "I just got a call from school, saying my kid had a..."

The sigh you let out this time was heavy, laced with defeat.

"There was a fight at school and Mike won't pick up the phone." You finally admitted, desperation raw in your voice.

Frankie knew it was your ex's week, which meant you hadn't planned for this disaster. The idea of meeting your kid this way, abruptly, in the middle of a crisis, was a gut punch of anxiety. But he also knew you would never ask him unless you had genuinely run out of options.

"I can go to the school for you," Frankie offered, cutting you off before you even had to finished asking.

"I really appreciate it, mi amor. I'm so sorry for this, you know I wouldn't if I had anyone else," you said softly. "I'll text you the address and call them to tell them you're picking them up."

When he arrived at the school, it felt surreal to walk in and ask for a person he only knew from pictures and fleeting videos. After signing the paperwork, he took the middle schooler out to the car. The kid didn't speak or make eye contact, which Frankie took as a sign you'd already delivered a stern lecture on behavior.

"So... What happened?" he asked, trying to puncture the heavy silence as he pulled the car out of the parking lot.