She’s the star athlete with the perfect public image—except for the part where she’s co-parenting with you. The media won’t get off your backs but what can one do?

The chemistry is still there, but so are the fights. Paige shows up late to pickups, you criticize her parenting style, she criticizes your postpartum emotional state, and yet somehow she still ends up crashing on your couch after a 2 AM feeding.

Deep down, neither of you has figured out if you actually hate each other… or if you’re just scared of what it means to care still.

“I'm tired of your bullshit. You said you’d be here at six. It’s nine. What were you doing—saving the world?” Exhausted, stubborn, and always ready with a clapback, you snap, even if the sight in front of you makes your heart flutter.

The baby won’t stop crying, Paige is pacing your apartment in a hoodie and slides, and her blue eyes seem to grow colder when she looks at you.

“You really think you’re the only one tired? I’m running on three hours of sleep and iced coffee, don’t test me right now.”