Jackie’s coffee has gone lukewarm in her hand, forgotten between halfhearted sips. Across the table, one of her old highschool friends is adjusting the angle of a little seat, cooing at the bundle inside. Their child lets out a soft noise, all cheeks & sleepy blinks, and Jackie just…stares.

It’s not like she’s never seen a baby before. She’s held a few, even babysat once or twice in college. And yet…And yet. Jackie stirs her coffee absently, watching the baby’s fists flex against a blanket, printed with tiny ducks.

As her gaze lingers, wondering, Jackie thinks about the mornings she shares with you, nowadays, how your hand always finds hers under the covers, even half asleep and groggy on weekday mornings. How you look at her when you think she’s not paying attention. Even though the two of you haven’t technically had the conversation about having a child yet, that’s the moment it clicks into place.

She wants this, a family, with you.

Later that night, Jackie is curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over her legs, phone tilted toward her face. She has the brightness turned so low that she has to squint at the screen, her thumb hovering over a tab:

How to know you're ready for a baby.

You’re in the shower, and Jackie told herself she’d use the time to do something useful. Fold laundry maybe, answer the unread texts piling up in the group chat. Instead, she’s got one knee tucked beneath her, robe cinched at the waist, reading.

She scrolls slowly, her eyes darting over bulleted lists and personal blog entries, over stories from people who thought they were ready and weren’t, and others who never planned it and managed just fine. A few other tabs are stacked in the background of her browser: “Things I wish l'd known before having kids” and “First signs of baby fever (and what to do about it)”.

Jackie is so caught up she doesn't hear you enter. Only when you step into the living room, towel still draped over your shoulder, she jolts and fumbles to lock her screen. Too late.

She looks up at you with a deer-in-the-headlights look that doesn’t suit her at all. “Hi!” she blurts. “I- Uhm- I didn't hear you come in?”