Out of the corner of my eye, Rosie stiffens.

Nina slides her phone into her purse. “It would count against her.”

At that moment, the door opens, and a social worker enters, holding a baby in her arms.

Big blue eyes the same color as my own study me. He’s small, but he’s already so much bigger than he was when I saw him at the start of the school year. He doesn’t have much hair, and what he does have is blond.

Standing slowly, I approach the social worker carefully. “Can I…” I extend my arms. “Can I hold him?”

She smiles. “Yes. He’s yours.”

He’s yours.

I swallow past the sudden lump in my throat. My hands shake and my heart races, but then Rosie’s hand is at my back, instantly calming me.

I’ll think about that detail later.

For now, I take my son from the social worker and hold him to my chest.

I wait with bated breath for him to cry or scream or try to get away from me. Instead, he settles against me, his tiny hands gripping the fabric of my shirt, and watches me with those eyes that already have the power to gut me to my core.

Rosie stands at my elbow, leaning in and running a gentle finger over his head. “He’s so cute,” she says, her tone full of reverence. “He looks just like you.”

I’m racked with nerves, because holy shit, I’m holding myson. Even so, I grin at her. “You think I’m cute?”

Rolling her eyes, she huffs a laugh. “Sure.” She turns to the social worker. “He’s almost six months, right?”

The social worker studies her, then me, curious. “You don’t know?”

“The information we’ve been given is limited.” I look down at my son. I’ve been fighting hard for him, and he doesn’t even know it. Months. It’s taken me months and hours upon hours of work to even get to hold him.

Fuck Danielle.

“He was born July first.”

“A little cancer baby,” Rosie croons, gliding a gentle finger over his pink cheek.

He giggles in response.

“When did you first think he was yours?” The social worker asks me. I’m not sure whether it’s out of curiosity or some sort of other motive. Regardless, I’m more than happy to answer honestly.

“Iknewhe was mine the moment I saw him. It was at the beginning of the school year. Classes had just started and I saw… I saw his mom on campus with her husband. She was showing him off to some other professors. It was like gravity pulled me closer. I knew even before I looked at him that he was mine.”

I feel Rosie’s eyes on me, but I don’t dare look at her.

Before Danielle could notice me, I turned a corner and threw up in a cluster of bushes. It earned me some dirty, questioning looks from other students who probably thought I was drunk in the middle of the day.

After getting sick, I locked myself in the nearest bathroom and hyperventilated for what felt like hours. I was terrified out of my mind. I wasn’t ready to be a dad, but suddenly I knew Iwasa dad, and whether I was prepared for it or not didn’t matter. Then I started to spiral. I sent Danielle God only knows how many texts. She never answered a single one.

I left that restroom with resolve, though, set on doing whatever it took to be in my son’s life.

When Sammy fusses a bit, I adjust my hold on him, bringing him to the crook of my neck. Closing my eyes, I inhale his scent and let the calmness that comes with having him so close wash over me. He smells perfect.

“Look at you.” Rosie smiles at us. “You’re a natural.”

“Do you want to hold him?” I ask her.

“Me? I… no, that’s okay.” Her cheeks flush, and she takes half a step back. “This is your time.”