Oscar's ex girlfriend left his baby on porch overnight and he never heard from her after.
Oscar as a single dad and a father to his brother.
Credit:
*On My block characters are credited towards Netflix
*Several of the characters are name that I use...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(credit: Google)
Oscar POV
The evening sky is painted in soft hues of pink and orange as we step onto the cool sand, Flaca leaning slightly into me with every step. The ocean breeze carries a salty tang and the soothing rhythm of waves crashing gently along the shore.
I wrap my arm around her waist, steadying her, feeling the small kicks from our baby inside her belly—a quiet reminder of the life we're about to welcome.
"You ready for this?" I ask softly, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.
She smiles, though there's a tiredness in her eyes. "As ready as I'll ever be. Let's get this baby moving."
We walk slowly, our footprints leaving temporary marks behind us. The sand is cool beneath our feet, and the steady sound of the surf feels like a lullaby.
Flaca's hand finds mine, fingers interlacing, a silent promise of strength and support. "Thanks for being here, Oscar. For everything."
I squeeze her hand gently. "Always. You're not alone."
A pause as she stops, pressing a hand to her lower belly, a soft wince crossing her face. "That one felt different."
I stop with her, concerned but calm. "That's a good sign."
She leans into me, letting the waves kiss our toes, and I brush my lips across her temple.
"Whatever happens, we're in this together. One step, one breath at a time."
She nods, drawing strength from the steady tide and the warmth between us.
"Let's keep walking."
And so we do—side by side, hearts beating in sync with the ocean's endless rhythm, ready to welcome the next chapter of our lives.
Oscar POV
We keep walking slowly along the shoreline, the sky now deepening into twilight, the air cool but comforting against Flaca's warm skin. Her breaths are steady, but I notice a subtle change — a slight tightening in her face, a pause in her step.
"Hey, you okay?" I ask gently, tightening my grip around her waist.
She nods but her hand instinctively goes to her lower belly, fingers pressed lightly. "Yeah... just a little different this time."
A soft contraction ripples through her, subtle but unmistakable. Her eyes close briefly, lips parting as she focuses on the sensation.
"It's starting, isn't it?" I say quietly, awe and a flicker of nervousness mingling in my voice.
Flaca leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder. "Feels like it. Not too strong yet... but I'm feeling it."
I brush her hair back and whisper, "We've got this. Just breathe with me."
She inhales deeply, and I match her rhythm, slow and even. The ocean's steady pulse around us feels like a calming soundtrack for the moment.
Another contraction comes, stronger now, and she tightens her hold on my hand. I press a reassuring kiss to her temple.
"You're doing amazing," I say, voice low but full of love.
She smiles through the ache, eyes shining with determination. "I'm ready for you, little one."
We stand still for a moment, the world narrowing down to the two of us, the baby, and the first steps of this incredible journey.
Oscar POV
Flaca's breathing quickens slightly as we walk back toward the car. The contractions are coming more regularly now—nothing unbearable, but definitely gaining ground.
I keep my arm around her, steady and supportive, though inside my heart's pounding like a drum. I reach for my phone to call Dwayne, letting him know we might need the kids for a little longer. He picks up right away, calm and ready.
"Hey man, Flaca's laboring now. Can you keep the kids a bit longer?" I say, watching Flaca wince gently.
"No problem. We've got them covered," Dwayne replies. "Just focus on Flaca."
Flaca leans into me, voice hushed but sure, "Oscar, I'm scared but ready. Can we get to the hospital?"
"Of course," I say softly. "I'll get everything ready. You're doing amazing."
Back at the house, I move efficiently but carefully—packing the hospital bag one more time, double-checking the baby's things, and grabbing the paperwork. Flaca moves slowly, but her strength is clear in every step.
I help her into the car, her hand gripping mine tightly, and the city lights blur around us as we drive. I keep telling her how proud I am, how much I love her, but inside I'm holding my breath, hoping for the safest, smoothest birth possible.
We're on our way. The journey that started with those soft contractions on the beach is becoming real—soon, our baby will be here.
