Through the door, their voices drift in—muffled but clear enough.
“He can’t do that, can he?” Sofie asks, her tone sharp, indignant.
Nalani answers, calm but uncertain. “I’m not a lawyer, but it doesn’t seem like he could. She has a job, too.”
“I can’t believe he insisted on taking Savannah for a walk around the park alone,” Sofie says, the disbelief thick in her voice. “He just met her. How was she so calm?”
I rinse my face, dry it with a hand towel, and open the door.
They both look up. Sofie’s pacing. Nalani’s sitting on the couch, her expression gentle, careful.
“I have Air Tags in the stroller and the diaper bag,” I tell them, my voice hoarse. “In case they got lost at the airport. He had both.”
Nalani exhales, her lips parting slightly as understanding dawns. She moves over and pats the spot beside her.
I sit down, run a hand through my hair, and finally let out the truth. “I’m so fucking?—”
“Don’t you dare say sorry,” Sofie interrupts.
“Pissed,” I finish. “Angry. I should’ve never told him. Why has he suddenly decided he wants to be part of her life?”
“Maybe he grew a conscience?” Sofie offers, though her tone makes it clear she doubts it.
I lean back and stare at the ceiling. “I loved his confidence until I realized it was arrogance. I don’t want Savannah to grow up thinking she’s less important than his game, or get used to him being around and then disappearing. We agreed on that. I promised when she asked, I’d tell her I used a donor.”
Sofie, ever the blunt one, asks, “How does your family feel?”
I close my eyes for a moment. “I don’t know. I never met my father. And my mother…” I shrug, the motion small, practiced. “She liked to party more than she liked being a mother. She OD’d when I was five.”
“Oh my God, Claudia,” Sofie breathes out, her voice breaking with sympathy.
“I don’t remember much of her,” I admit quietly, “but she’s the reason I’ll always choose my child first.”
Nalani studies me for a long moment. “Are you an only child?”
“I am.”
Sofie nudges me gently with her foot, her voice softening. “But you’ve got kick-ass sisters now.”
That makes me smile. Small, tired, but real. “Yeah,” I say, looking between them. “I sure do.”
Savannah wakes with a small fuss, the kind that’s half hunger, half stretching her little body ready to enter the world again.
“I’m going to go feed her if that’s okay.”
“Do it right here, we’re all women.” Nalani shrugs. “Totally normal.”
She’s not wrong. I settle onto the couch, lift my shirt, and help her find her latch. Her soft sucking sounds fill the quiet space, that peaceful rhythm that always pulls me back from the edge.
Nalani moves around the small apartment, tidying absentmindedly, her presence calm and grounding. “You know,” she says softly, leaning against the counter, “you’re one of those women who doesn’t need a bit of makeup. You don’t even look like you tried today, but somehow you’re glowing. That’s not fair.”
I laugh quietly, my hand rubbing slow circles over Savannah’s back. “Trust me, I tried this morning. I just lost to exhaustion.”
She tilts her head, studying me like she’s taking mental notes. “You carry yourself differently, though. Confident. Like even when you’re apologizing, which is annoying by the way, you know exactly who you are.”
I shake my head. “I think that’s called survival.”
She nods knowingly. “Maybe. But it looks a lot like strength from here.”
