Leo.
My son.
I watched him climb the ladder to the slide, his movements careful but confident. When he reached the top and pushed off, his laugh carried across the courtyard.
That sound. My son's laughter.
I stood there, gripping the fence, watching him play. Each moment etched itself into my memory. The way he ran. The way he smiled. The way he looked when he was happy.
But watching my son play, knowing I couldn't go to him, couldn't introduce myself—patience had never felt so much like torture.
After ten minutes, Maya gathered the children. "Inside time! Let's wash our hands for snack time!"
They filed back into the building, Leo trailing at the end, still chattering about the slide.
I returned to the SUV and waited, engine off. I should leave. Go back to the office. Wait until tonight.
But I couldn't. Not yet.
At 4:05, the building's main entrance opened. A slender woman with dark hair pulled into a messy bun walked out, holding a small boy's hand.
Isla. And Leo.
Even from half a block away, I recognized her walk, the determined set of her shoulders. Leo bounced beside her, clearly talking nonstop about something, his free hand gesturing enthusiastically.
They turned the corner toward the subway entrance, disappearing from view.
I sat there for another moment, then made a decision.
I walked to the building’s entrance. The door was locked, but an older woman was slowly making her way toward the front. She pushed open the door, and I held it open. I smiled at her, wishing her a good day as I entered the building.
I took the stairs to the third floor.
Outside Maya's door, I could hear children's voices. Singing. Something about wheels on a bus. Other parents must have arrived, picking up their kids. The daycare day was winding down.
I stood there, listening. Imagining Leo on the other side of that door just minutes ago. His voice. His laugh.
What was I doing? Isla had already picked him up. He wasn't even here.
I was chasing ghosts of my son instead of waiting to meet him properly.
Tonight. I'd meet him properly tonight.
But now I knew. I knew his laugh. His voice. The way he moved. The way he held his mother's hand.
And nothing—no one—would keep me from him any longer.
I turned and walked back to the elevator, each step deliberate. By the time I reached the lobby, I'd composed myself enough that the doorman didn't give me a second glance.
The October air hit me as I stepped outside, cold and sharp. I climbed back into the SUV and sat there for a moment, hands gripping the steering wheel.
I'd seen my son. Heard his voice. Watched him play. Saw him walk away with his mother.
But I hadn't met him. Not yet.
My phone buzzed. Marco.
"Yes." I started the engine. "Make sure the doctor arrives at Isla's apartment at exactly seven. Not a minute before, not a minute after."
