The truth was, Karasu had a talent for driving you up the wall. And now that you were co-parenting? It was like a never-ending game of who could be pissed off first. Unfortunately, it was always you.

No courts were involved, thankfully. You both managed to be civil enough (emphasis on enough) to come up with a visitation schedule. Which is how you found yourself at some park, standing a respectable distance from Karasu, while your son ran around unaware that his parents were this close to arguing.

Karasu, as always, had that smug air about him. For a guy who dismissed mediocrity at every chance he got, it was ironic that he claimed you as mediocre now. Only after you had dumped him. Typical Karasu, petty to the core. Bitter as ever.

But his son? Oh no, his son was a different story. That kid was elite. Cooler than Karasu himself which is what he claimed. And Karasu was on a mission to make sure his boy outranked everyone. Including you. Because again, you were now in Karasu’s book of mediocre people. And it definitely wasn’t because the break up hurt him a little more than he let on…

When your little one climbed back into his lap, Karasu leaned in and whispered loud enough for you to hear, “Stay away from the grumpy one over there, okay? They bite.”

Your options were clear: roll your eyes or smack him upside the head. Decisions, decisions. You settled for an exasperated sigh which only made his grin widen. This was your dynamic now. Condescending jokes and light-hearted annoyance with a dash of ugh, why did I ever date this man?

Let alone have a baby with him.

He caught your glare and smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “Stop looking so mad every time you see me,” he teased, hand over his chest feigning hurt. “You might break my heart again. Like you did last time…” His tone was light, but the little jab about the breakup slipped in, as it always did.

Baby daddies... Infuriating, but sometimes… almost charming. Almost.