The Neighbour

FOUR

🌷Anastasia🌷

I push through the glass doors to my building, exhausted from today's shift. It wasn't particularly busy, but just about every person I encountered was rude for no reason. One gentleman thought gripping my arm was an appropriate way to get my attention. Thankfully, Kimberly was there to diffuse the situation. Still, it brought up a lot of unwanted feelings and I already know my night is going to be shit because of it. I'm the type to dwell. To overthink. I might as well crawl into bed and call it a night now.

"ANASTASIA!"

I barely recognise Freddie frantically pacing in front of my apartment. His hair is a beautifully mess and his eyes, laser focused. He's wearing loose jeans, no socks and—holy shit—no shirt.

"Freddi—"

"I might have to start calling you the prank queen. This one was good."

What?

His glasses fall down his nose and he pushes them up using his fingers.

"Although, I have to be honest, I'm freaking out a bit."

I look beyond his panicked face and catch sight of what looks to be a car seat for a baby. I see a tiny arm fly out, followed by a leg.

"You can take her back to her parents now," he says, pointing towards my apartment door.

I have no fucking idea what he's talking about.

"How am I supposed to know who her parents are?" I ask.

He stares at me for a moment, completely bewildered.

"Because you orchestrated this entire thing."

"What thing?" I press, too tired for this shit.

He turns to pick up the baby and I can't help but notice the artistic way his back muscles ripple as he does so. Each one works in synchronisation as he secures his grip and presents me with what is—quite possibly—the cutest baby I've never seen.

Her huge, brown eyes are full of wonderment and—despite being only a few weeks old (educated guess)—she has a lot of strength in her neck. She smiles at me, though as someone who deals with a lot of babies through work, I conclude it's probably just a burp coming.

"Here," informs Freddie, pointing to her chest.

She's wearing a pink baby grow and stuck to it is a post-it note with a few scribbles on it.

Freddie,

She's yours.

Take care of her in ways I couldn't.

X

What the fuck?

"Umm—Freddie—"

"You almost had me, Ana," he says, nervously laughing.

The baby makes another noise.

"I didn't do this," I inform. "I have no idea who this baby is."

Freddie—in all his shirtless glory—stares at me. For the longest time, he doesn't blink. Doesn't move. I'm not even sure he's breathing.

"What—I—do—Umm—"

He's about three seconds away from having a full-blown panic attack.

"Come inside," I say, practically shoving him into my apartment.

He's still gripping the car seat in my living room, staring blankly ahead.

"Walk me through what's happened," I encourage, standing close enough to break through his haze.