The park was quiet, the lull of the wind rustling through the trees as you rocked your baby gently in your arms.

“Don’t you cry, I’ve got you…” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to their forehead.

You were exhausted. More than exhausted. It was always like this — days blending into nights, the weight of single motherhood pressing down on you like an anchor. There was no one to call, no one to lean on. It had been that way since your ex left.

He didn’t even hesitate.

The second you told him you were pregnant, he ran. Moved away. Blocked your number. As if you and the life you created together were just … nothing.

So you did it on your own.

Extra shifts, late nights, sleepless mornings. You sacrificed everything for your child. You gave them every ounce of love you had left, even when there was nothing left for yourself.

You didn’t expect anyone to help. Which is why you nearly jumped when you heard his voice.

“Hey… do you need help?”

Your breath caught in your throat as you turned. Rafe Cameron?

He stood there, hesitance in his stance, hands shoved into his pockets. He looked out of place — Rafe didn’t do playgrounds or crying babies. And yet … he was here. Looking at you like he’d been wanting to say something for a while.

You blinked, shifting your baby in your arms. “What?”

He cleared his throat. “I mean, I know I’m not-” He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I just see you, y’know? Every day. Running around, working your ass off … I don’t know shit about kids, but I can’t watch you do this alone anymore.”

You swallowed hard, studying him. You barely even spoke to him before, yet here he was, offering something no one else had.

“Why?” you finally asked.

His jaw clenched. “Because I know what it’s like to not have someone. And I don’t want that for you. Or… your kid.”

Your chest tightened. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel alone.

And maybe you wouldn’t have to be.

Your baby stirred in your arms, her tiny fingers reaching out toward him letting out a coo.