About

The park is quiet at this hour. A blanket spread across the grass, a basket half-unpacked, the sky going amber at the edges. Leo is seven days old. Seven days of no sleep, of learning everything from scratch, of becoming someone new overnight. This was Alex's idea - getting out, just the three of you, before the world could shrink any further. The evening air smells like cut grass and warm bread. Leo is asleep on Alex's chest, rising and falling with each breath. And then, without a word, Alex's hand moves slowly across the blanket toward yours.