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“Okay,” I say, feeling very surprised. The world is spinning slightly, but it’s due to the whiplash she’s giving me. “Thank you.”

“No, honestly thank you! You’re saving me from having to put an SOS into the community for an art teacher.”

I don’t have the heart to tell her I’ve never taught anything in my life and simply say goodbye. That went nothing like how I thought it would.

I begin to pass a halal restaurant on the way home and my stomach rumbles.

“To having a ‘yes’ day,” I murmur, stopping. I've been hungry all the time since I had Zayn and I plan to fully enjoy it. I want to teach my son to take calculated risks. I feel as if I’ve spent too much time playing things small. I want him to be kind and confident. Nothing like Alastair fucking Steele.

I walk into the restaurant and take my order to go, making sure to get enough for dinner too. It’s my birthday, and I don’t feel like cooking. I decide I’m going to eat and then head back out with Zayn to lay on a blanket in the park near the apartment.

I haven’t had a decent birthday in years, and last year I almost died. I’m humming as I scan my card to get into my building and take the elevator upstairs. Zayn makes adorable cooing sounds as I talk to him, and I glance up as I walk down the hallway toward the apartment.

There’s a large man standing in front of the doorway with his back turned, and my feet slow as ringing begins in my ears. My hands shake as I pull out my phone, ready to call 9-1-1 if necessary. It takes me too long to remember that Theo set up a camera in front of my door. I also have an alarm system he activates as soon as I walk out the door.

Some people may think that’s creepy, but I find it comforting that I have people in my life who care about me.

The man turns and I sag in relief as his hazel eyes see me.

“Feliz cumpleaños, mija!”

“Thank you,” I say, blinking the tears from an adrenaline dump away. Fuck, I almost had a complete meltdown here in the hallway. “What are you doing here?”

He diminishes the space between us to sweep Zayn and I into his arms and I hug him back.

“We decided someone needed to come see you for your birthday,” he explains, taking the bags from me. “Hola, mi nino. Que ojos lindos. He’s getting so big.”

“I may need to size him up into the next size soon,” I grin proudly. I smile much easier than I ever have before. I have a lot to be happy about. Zayn was eight pounds, four ounces when he was born and there’s nothing dainty about him.

He’s a mini tank and adorable.

“Am I interrupting any plans?” he asks, ushering me toward the apartment. I hand him my keys to open the door, shaking my head at his question.

“We went to breakfast, yoga, and now we’re back with shawarma,” I say. “Just a normal day.”

“How do you feel about an extraordinary day?” he asks, winking as we walk inside. Emil disarms the alarm as he hustles me into the kitchen and grabs a plate for me. He doesn’t like to eat out of takeout containers.

I think it’s a fun little quirk for such a lethal man, and I let him take over as I sit down. Zayn begins to complain because he doesn’t want me sitting down, and I shake my head as I stand up again.

“What does extraordinary entail?” I ask, holding Zayn against me as I begin to release him from the wrap. “I know, you hate when I sit, sweetheart. Mmhmm. Your abuelo can hang with you while I eat, okay?”

“Hell yes I will,” Emil chuckles, placing my plate down with a fork. “I want all the snuggles. I can tell he still smells like a baby.”

“He does,” I say, allowing Emil to take him. I hang up the wrap and sit back down, watching as they get acquainted again.

My family has come to see me on weekends and randomly to pop in individually. Julia came down a couple of weeks ago to visit and we went for a walk on the beach while she was here. Zayn did tummy time with a floppy hat and patted the sand with a stern expression before slapping at it with a squeal. I love watching him.

She also took Zayn and I to an art show the afternoon before she left, surprising me with one of my paintings that was in the show. I had no idea it would be there. One of the owners of the gallery I have pieces with entered it into the show. It was so cool to watch it sell. We didn’t let anyone know I was there since Emil and I agreed I should paint under a pseudonym.

I’ve had a lot of really good days here in San Diego.

I dig into my food and begin eating as Emil details his plans for the rest of the day.

“I heard you were running low on art supplies, and you dislike shopping online for them,” he begins.

“That’s true, but I was going to go to the store around the corner next week,” I explain.

“But, then you have to haul it back with the baby. There’s a store twenty minutes away by car that has better quality materials and I can drive you there.”