And should I even still be here?
FIVE
Morgan
“Now what?”I asked Cole. I wasn’t sure what I meant—what happened now for Gabbi, for me? For the first time since I’d collided with him, I realized he was the one I was asking, and I didn’t know why.
Maybe because he hadn’t run? Or was it because he calmed me?
He blinked at me, confused, and I was suddenly embarrassed.
“We should… uh… talk to Alex. Or one of the others. Marcus, maybe. Get you both settled into a room. There’s—hang on?—”
Alex appeared behind me, calm and smiling. “You want me to show you where you can set up a place?”
“I’m staying here,” I asked. “Not on my own… with Gabbi, right?” My voice felt too small.
“No question,” Alex said. “We’ve got an apartment with some privacy. A separate area for Gabbi. Quiet. There are some things up there for Gabbi as well.”
“I have some savings… not much though.” I’d handed the last of it to Annie, sent everything her way. She’d promised me shewas getting clean. She’d told me about the baby.I thought I had something to come home to.
“It all arrived today,” Alex said, clearing his throat as he flicked a glance toward Cole. “We covered it. Don’t worry about the cost.”
For some reason, Cole wouldn’t meet my gaze then, and a stupid stab of hurt went through me. I figured he considered me a huge mess—some useless idiot who’d screwed up his life and was the worst possible option for a baby. The thought hit harder than it should’ve. It spiraled fast, dragging every ugly thing I already believed about myself to the surface. Of course, he couldn’t look at me. Who would? I was the guy who’d blown up his own life, who’d trusted the wrong person, who didn’t have a home anymore. A liability with a baby I had no right to be responsible for. I wasn’t just a mess—hell, that would’ve been merciful. He probably thought I was the last person who should’ve been entrusted with her, and yet here I was, pretending I could keep her safe when I could barely keep myself standing.
I waited for him to say he’d stay, or that he’d walk with us. It made no sense, the way my chest tightened when he took a couple of steps away from me. I barely knew him, but something in me kept reaching for him anyway, as if I’d already decided he was safe.
Instead, he extended his hand to shake. His palm was warm, his grip steady, and the moment we touched, something flickered low in my stomach. Recognition? Relief? I didn’t understand it, and it startled me enough I almost forgot to let go.
“It was nice to meet you both,” he said quietly.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. He was going and I didn’t know why that hit so hard. I didn’t want him to go, and I had no idea what that meant. The reaction didn’t feel like mine—it felt borrowed, like I was standing in the wrong life wearingsomeone else’s skin. Everything since arriving here had been too much, too fast, as though I was half a step out of sync with myself. And now this stranger’s absence was suddenly the thing my body decided to latch onto?
Displacement, shock, exhaustion—maybe all three. But the pull toward him was real, sharp enough that it left me unsteady on my feet, clutching Gabbi closer just to ground myself.
“Thank you,” I managed, letting Alex guide me away, though my steps felt uncertain. I couldn’t stop myself from glancing back at Cole. He caught my eye and gave me this small, warm, almost stupidly hopeful smile—as if he believed I’d be okay here, as if he believed I could handle all of this. And for one brief, disorienting second… I almost believed him.
Alex led me down a short hallway, his pace steady and quiet, as if he understood I was hanging on by a thread. Gabbi had fallen asleep against my shoulder, her breath warm on my neck, the only thing in my world that made sense.
“We put you in here, on the ground floor, so you’re not carrying Gabbi up and down stairs,” Alex said as he pushed open a door. “It’s one of the quieter apartments. People can come by if you need help, but no one will bother you unless you want them to.”
The room was bigger than I expected. Clean. A couch. A small kitchenette. And along the far wall?—
A crib.
Not just a crib, but boxes stacked neatly beside it. Baby wipes. Formula. Tiny clothes were still folded in plastic—there was a mobile with little felt stars. Someone had thought about this.
I stepped closer, touching the crib rail with my free hand. It was solid and new—I could see the box for it in the corner. Safe. Too safe. I didn’t know what to do with that feeling.
Alex moved around the space with the calm efficiency of someone who’d done this a hundred times. “There’s bedding in that box. Clothes in these two. Diapers here. Bottles and a sterilizer on the counter. If you need anything bigger—a stroller, a carrier—just ask. We can get it for you.”
“Why is all of this here? Do you have other veterans with babies? This is… a lot.”
He smiled gently and gestured vaguely at the crib and the mountain of boxes. “This is actually the first time we’ve ever had a baby stay at Guardian Hall.”
I blinked. “The first?”
“Yeah.” Alex smiled proudly. “But when people arrive in need, our benefactors don’t let that last, and Cole ordered everything overnight. Every last item.
