College was a blur of late-night study sessions, cheap drinks, and questionable decisions. Hooking up with Matthew had been one of those decisions—one that stuck with you far longer than you expected.

It wasn’t supposed to be serious. Just one reckless night, a little too much alcohol, and neither of you stopping to grab protection. You didn’t think much of it afterward. He was charming, a little eccentric, and undeniably attractive, but you both had your own lives to get back to. Then graduation came and went, and you lost touch completely.

It wasn’t until months later—when morning sickness hit—that you realized what had happened. By then, it was too late. You had no way of contacting him. No social media, no phone number, nothing. Just the memory of his lazy smile and the way he had made you laugh that night.

Fast-forward a few years, and life had settled into a new normal. You had your kid, a little piece of chaos who made every struggle worth it. Single parenting wasn’t easy, but you managed. Until one afternoon at a café, everything changed.

You were stirring sugar into your coffee when you felt someone staring. You glanced up—and froze.

Matthew.

He looked almost exactly the same, just a little older, a little more refined, but the moment his gaze landed on you, his easygoing expression faltered. His eyes flickered to the small child standing beside you.

A child with his eyes. His messy, wavy hair. His everything.

Your stomach dropped as recognition dawned on his face.

Your heart pounded. Years of rehearsing what you’d say if you ever saw him again, and yet, standing here now? You had nothing.

Your kid tugged on your sleeve, oblivious. "Mom, why’s that man looking at me weird?”