There were no grand declarations.
No sudden kisses under the rain.23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ87uaF5cimL
Just a knock at the door, every morning at 6:45.
Peachy would open it, bleary-eyed and in pajamas, Clara on her hip—hair sticking up like cotton candy—and Charlie, holding two cups of taho and a bag of warm pandesal, would smile awkwardly like it was the only thing he knew how to do right.
"Good morning," he'd say.
And Peachy, half-asleep, would mumble, "You're early again."
But she let him in.23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWGNBOB8ZLP
Every time.
At first, he was awkward with Clara.
He held her like she was made of glass, arms stiff, panic obvious when she cried.
"Just sway a bit," Peachy instructed, gently correcting his grip. "Like this. Babies know if you're scared."
"I am scared," he muttered.
She laughed softly. "Then fake it 'til she burps."
Clara eventually started reaching for him.23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUruvylJJ62
Then giggling.23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVdTvz6vKeD
Then holding his pinky with her whole hand like it was the safest place in the world.
Charlie's heart cracked open with every gummy smile she gave him.
They took turns—well, mostly he insisted—on bottle duty, diaper changes, burping. He even downloaded a parenting app.
"Overkill," Peachy teased.
"Preparation," he countered.
He never stayed past bedtime.23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdbzCvXG2RH
Never crossed boundaries.23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhaF6fCIWev
But he always left a sticky note by the fridge:
"You're doing amazing. Don't forget to rest. —C"23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdWkHYxLOAH
"Clara drooled on my shirt. Worth it."23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡehawmfdUC9
"Tomorrow, carrots? I'll bring soft ones for her. And strong coffee for you."
Pink ink. Like hers.
Peachy stared at them sometimes longer than she should. Not because of what was written—but because someone remembered her.
Charlie didn't say he loved her.23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡs8ADUJ3cpO
Didn't even say he missed her.
But one Saturday afternoon, while Clara napped in her crib and Peachy folded laundry, he sat beside her on the worn couch and asked, "Do you still keep notes?"
Peachy nodded. "Everywhere."
He handed her a small notebook. Her favorite shade of rose pink.
"I thought maybe..." he said. "You'd want something sturdier than post-its."
She opened it. On the first page, in his handwriting:
"This is a book of truths. For the girl who always left kindness on mirrors."
She didn't cry. But her fingers trembled.
Later, she confessed softly, "Charlie..."
He turned to her.
"I don't want to be needed."
He blinked. "You're not."
She looked up at him, wary but hopeful. "Then what am I?"
He exhaled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're... wanted. By me. Still figuring it out, still scared. But that hasn't changed."
Peachy closed her eyes.23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAEfaJDfJuZ
That was all she needed for today.
Not a promise.23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMdpScXJb2p
Not a ring.23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡg061SSOQov
Just... clarity.
Richard Mo found out three weeks later.
He visited Peachy's apartment unannounced—flanked by two men in suits and carrying an envelope.
"Mr. Mo?" Peachy blinked, holding Clara against her shoulder.
"I need to speak to you," he said. "And my son."
Charlie arrived ten minutes after her panic call.
"Dad, what are you doing here?"
Richard looked between his son and Peachy. Then at Clara, now awake and gurgling.
"This child... is yours?"
"Yes," Charlie said firmly.
Richard's jaw tightened. "You kept this from us."
"I didn't know until recently," Charlie replied. "And now that I do, I'm not running."
"She's a Chen," Richard stated, voice cold. "Not a Mo."
Peachy stiffened.
But Charlie stepped between them. "She's both. And we're figuring it out without you making her feel like less."
Richard's eyes narrowed. "You're risking everything for this—this arrangement."
Charlie glanced at Peachy, whose hand was trembling as she clutched Clara's back.
"She's not an arrangement," he said. "She's home."
Richard left without another word.
And that night, Peachy sat beside Charlie on her tiny balcony, staring at the city lights.
"You meant it?" she asked.
He didn't need to answer.23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡalHuCk5XUH
He just reached for her hand.
And for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel like someone temporary.
She felt chosen.
End of Chapter 18.
23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDMRycxznbx
