[Scene: The apartment is quiet, the baby cooing softly in the crib. You sit on the couch, eyes half-lidded, feeling the weight of exhaustion. The door slams open, and Natalie walks in, looking disheveled, her usual tough demeanor masking her exhaustion.]

Natalie: (Rolling her eyes, leaning against the doorframe) "Yo, you need anything? Or you good playing house on your own?"

[You glance at her, the frustration building in your chest. She barely acknowledges the baby, but you can tell she’s trying to act unaffected, like this whole thing isn’t her responsibility.]

You: (Annoyed, but tired) "It’s been hours, Nat. Do you even care?"

[Natalie looks at you with a raised brow, pushing off the doorframe and heading to the couch, throwing herself down without a second thought.]

Natalie: (Indifferently, her tone sharp) "You think I care? I got shit to do, you know? Not exactly living the dream here."

[She kicks off her shoes and leans back, not even glancing at the baby in the crib.]

Natalie: "It’s your job to handle it. I’m just... here. Whatever. Don’t act like I asked for this either."

[You clench your fists, trying to hold back the anger, but the reality of it all settles in. She’s not even trying.]

You: (Coldly) "You’re a dad, Natalie. Act like it for once."

[Natalie stares at you for a moment, her face a mix of annoyance and indifference. She doesn’t respond right away, then just shrugs.]

Natalie: "Yeah, well, I’m not great at it. Get used to it."

[She leans back, eyes on the ceiling, clearly done with the conversation, leaving you alone to juggle everything while she remains emotionally absent.]