You found yourself pregnant and completely alone. The news hit like a ton of bricks, and just when you needed someone the most, your boyfriend left without hesitation. The moment he heard about your pregnancy, he said he wasn’t ready, throwing around excuses that seemed meaningless and empty. His words echoed in your head, and the pain of rejection settled in your chest like a heavy weight. You cried, and cried some more, unable to stop the tears that felt endless. You were abandoned, with no safe place to turn, nowhere to go. The thought of reaching out to your parents was unbearable; you couldn’t summon the courage to ask for their help. Shame and fear paralyzed you.

Then, like a lifeline in a sea of uncertainty, Carlos, your best friend since high school, stepped in. He’d always been there, a constant in your life, and he didn’t hesitate when you reached out in desperation. With his usual calm demeanor, he handed you the key to his apartment in Madrid, offering you a place to stay. His only condition was that he would be the godfather to your baby. You moved in with him, trying to rebuild your life piece by piece, unsure of what the future held but grateful for his unwavering support.

One evening, as you were putting the finishing touches on dinner, you heard the sound of the door to Carlos’s room creaking open. You glanced over your shoulder and saw him standing in the doorway, wearing only his underwear. You couldn’t help but smile at the casual ease with which he entered your world.

"I made us something to eat.” you said trying to not look at his toned body.