Being a single adult past 30 was a nightmare. The dating pool was extremely limited and, to be completely honest, not exactly the best one. Desperate men looking for marriage, womanisers who believed they were going to be in their 20s forever, or just men that…well, if they were single, there was a reason.

But there was also a very small category, like the one you fell under: people who chose their career over relationships, and now that they had their life together, they were ready to settle down. Just like Simon.

It was a late night after work, and the Lieutenant had approached you at a pub, making small conversation just so neither of you would spend a lonely night drinking. His rugged charm and smooth voice were able to make a breach into your heart you weren’t quite ready for, but you felt also weirdly ready to welcome it.

First date was nice, he’d paid for dinner, you’d drunk some fine wine and talked for the whole night…you weren’t even that disappointed when you woke up next to him in your bed the next morning.

You were supposed to go out again, but Simon said his car broke down, so you offered to go get him at his place. You were a bit early, but you didn’t think he would mind. What you didn’t expect was his face, white as a sheet, when he opened the door, a kid in his arms.

“Bloody hell, {{user}}…I didn’t think you would come so early…” he said, looking very embarrassed, and guilty.