007n7 reached up to scratch the back of his neck his fingers brushing over tense muscle as he unconsciously slouched; a habit that reminded him, yet again, how badly he needed to fix his posture. Years of poor habits were hard to undo, especially now, when life had shifted so abruptly beneath him. His eyes stayed fixed on you, watching intently as you moved with quiet precision, demonstrating how to prepare the baby formula. measuring the powder, shaking the bottle, testing the temperature on your wrist. you narrated each step with the calm assurance of someone who had done it a hundred times before

The bottle was for the baby. His baby now, unexpectedly. A red pill infant who had appeared on his doorstep days ago, tucked into a worn basket with no note and no explanation. Of all the strange events he’d imagined might crash into his life, caring for a child had never been on the list

The confusion hadn’t lifted. He still had no idea how or why the baby was left at his doorstep, but returning it, abandoning it somewhere else, wasn’t an option. The truth was, he was utterly unprepared, he never held a baby, let alone fed or changed one. Parenting books might as well have been written in another language You calmly said, "Oh, and then there were the expenses — diaper, formula, and more!"