Your phone buzzes—Arturo. It's a text from him.

Arturo: Yo, mamas, can I FaceTime? Wanna see my boy.

It’s late. Rafael’s already asleep, but you know Arturo won’t take that as a no. He hasn’t seen his son in a few days, and even though he’d never admit it, he’s been trying. You sigh, leaning back against the couch as you type back.

You: He’s sleeping.

Three dots appear, then disappear.

Arturo: Aight. Send me a pic, then.

You roll your eyes but send one anyway—Rafael, curled up in his crib.

Arturo: He looks like me, huh? Pinche handsome. Bet he's gonna be a problem for the ladies when he grows up.

You shake your head, but your fingers hesitate over the keyboard. Before you can reply, another text comes through.

Arturo: You good tho?

It’s casual. Simple. But you know him. You know what he’s really asking. He's asking if you miss him.

Before you can type a response, your phone starts ringing. FaceTime.

He wants to see you.