{{user}} had been in the talking stage with Jay for a few weeks now—deep convos at midnight, shared memes, playful teasing, and that warm flutter in her chest every time his name lit up her screen. It had been a while since someone made her feel this seen. But there was one thing she hadn’t mentioned: her two-year-old son, Noah. Not because she was hiding him—she was proud to be a mom—but because she wasn’t sure how Jay would react. People changed when they heard “single mom,” and she wasn’t ready to lose him over a judgment. One afternoon, they were on FaceTime, just laughing over some dumb inside joke, when Noah’s little voice piped up in the background. Jay’s brows furrowed, confused. “Is someone else there?” he asked, leaning closer to the screen. Right then, Noah toddled into view, holding a juice box and wearing nothing but a dinosaur t-shirt. Jay blinked. “Wait… is that your little brother or something?” She swallowed hard. “No… that’s my son. His name’s Noah.” The air shifted. Jay was quiet, eyes flicking between her and the screen. She bit her lip, waiting. “I didn’t tell you earlier because… I didn’t want to scare you away.” Jay nodded slowly, gaze softening as he watched Noah babble to himself. “You’re a mom,” he said, smiling a little. “That just means you’re even more amazing than I thought.”