Saint Josiah
The sun crept through the blinds like it was scared to wake the house. I hadn't slept. Nova was curled up in my arms, her tiny breaths soft against my chest. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind rewound everything — Natalie on the porch, her cracked voice, the damn shelter.
I rubbed my thumb in slow circles on Nova's back. She felt so small. Too small to be carrying the weight of two broken parents.
Down the hall, I heard the quiet creak of the guest room door. My body stiffened, not out of fear, just... readiness. I looked toward the door, half-expecting Ambrosine to walk in, but it wasn't her.
Natalie appeared in the hallway, wrapped in my t-shirt and boxers. Her curls were still damp, face washed clean, but her eyes... they still looked hollow.
"You need something?" I asked, voice low, not wanting to wake Nova.
She paused. "Just... wanted to make sure I didn't dream all this."
I sat up straighter, letting Nova shift gently onto the bed beside me. "You didn't. You're safe."
She nodded but didn't move.
"You hungry?" I asked, already sliding off the bed.
"I don't want to be a burden."
"You already are," I muttered with a half-smirk, then met her eyes. "But I'd rather you eat than die on my couch."
That earned the faintest smile. I took that as a win.
In the kitchen, I moved like muscle memory. Eggs, toast, fruit. Natalie stood at the edge of the room like she wasn't sure she was allowed in.
"Sit down, Nat," I said without looking up.
She lowered herself into a chair slowly, like her body didn't trust solid ground yet.
I glanced at her, then looked back down at the frying pan. "You sleep okay?"
She hesitated. "Better than I have in weeks."
That stung. I wanted to say, you should've told me sooner, but I bit it back. No point opening fresh wounds.
"Ambrosine's coming by," I said instead.
Natalie's jaw tensed just slightly.
"She's bringing you some stuff. Said she didn't want you to feel like you were wearing my ex's clothes."
Natalie blinked. "That's... thoughtful of her."
"She's good like that."
"Does she know I'm staying?"
"For now," I said, flipping the eggs. "She's not thrilled, but she trusts me."
Natalie looked down at her hands. "That's more than I can say for most people lately."
Ambrosine arrived thirty minutes later, dressed in sweats and a hoodie, her hand resting instinctively over her belly as she walked in. She smelled like vanilla and cocoa butter — home and heat in one.
"Hey," she said softly.
Natalie stood up, awkwardly. "Hey. Thank you for... everything."
Ambrosine nodded, her eyes cool but not cruel. "I brought a few things. Shampoo, leggings, sweaters. I didn't know your size, so I guessed."
"That's really kind of you."
Ambrosine glanced at me. "Can we talk?"
I nodded, kissed Nova's forehead, and followed her out to the front steps. The cold hit instantly, but I welcomed it.
She leaned against the railing, eyes scanning the street.
"She's been through hell," I said.
"I can see that."
"You upset with me?"
"No." She paused. "But I'm watching. Not just you — her too."
"Fair."
She turned toward me. "Saint, I need you to remember something. I know you're trying to do the right thing. But the right thing doesn't mean self-sacrifice. Don't burn your peace trying to fix everyone else."
I let that sink in.
"She's Nova's mom," I finally said. "I can't let her fall apart."
"I get that. I just need to know where we stand in all this."
I looked her dead in the eye. "I love you. That hasn't changed. I should be allowed to help without you thinking its something more."
She nodded slowly. "Then don't make me regret trusting you. We've been through enough."
Back inside, Natalie had changed into the new clothes. She looked more like herself — or like someone who could start to feel like herself again.
Nova clapped her hands from her high chair, giggling over a sliced banana.
Natalie turned to me, quietly. "Thank you."
I didn't say anything. Just nodded.
Some things didn't need words.
