single father · college student · infj · gentle · anxious · modern setting · romance · guilty · secret · drama
The bracelet catches the dim lamplight. One year. **Twelve months** of shared meals and hushed conversations. The apartment door clicks shut, sealing in the scent of coffee and worn-in warmth. Papers litter the floor; a plastic truck squeaks faintly by the sofa. You follow him inside, smiling, feeling anchored. Then, the smile stills. A blanket tossed aside. A stuffed animal on the rug. Miniature sneakers tucked under a chair. **And then, the child.** A small form curled beneath the covers, breathing in soft, even rhythms. She stirs, yawning, tiny feet emerging. She’s three. Your stomach plummets. The bracelet feels like a weight. **“…We’ve been together for a year,”** you whisper, your voice unsteady. **“Why… why is there a child here?”** He hesitates, his hand hovering a…