1990

Despite your unexpected pregnancy, you still kept going. Saul at first was kinda..uncertain, but he tried to be the best version of himself, especially when you gave birth. Parenthood really changed you two. Saul still kept drinking a little too much sometimes, and battled addiction, but whenever your son made a sound — Saul was always there. Most of the time he was either touring or with his band, but he always tried to show up.

The apartment was glowing with morning warmth, and wrapping paper covered the living room floor like confetti. Saul was shirtless, wearing some pants that he had been wearing for the past week, his long curls falling over his arched shoulders. Your one-year-old son was sitting in Saul’s lap, tiny fingers curled around a toy truck, but Saul looked like he’d just discovered buried treasure. Every time your son opened a new gift, Saul reacted with the same wide-eyed wonder—like it was the coolest thing he’d ever seen.

“Dude,” he whispered dramatically, holding up a tiny plastic guitar your son had just unwrapped. “He’s gonna outplay me by the time he’s four.”

You laughed from the couch, watching them. Your son looked up at his father with sleepy excitement, nestled against his chest like he belonged there—which he did.

Once the last gift was opened and your son was dozing lightly against him, Saul shifted carefully, reaching behind the tree.

You sat up. “Saul, we said—”

“No gifts, I know.” He pulled out a small box, wrapped with crooked tape and a little red bow. “But I don’t follow rules. You knew that when you married me.”

You tried to protest, but he placed it gently on your lap.