her.

It was October 3rd—the day after the wedding. Fall in the States. Warm and comfortable on the Portuguese coast.

Early. God, it was early—4 AM.

The city had rested peacefully. Cars had stopped whizzing down the streets hours ago. The birds sang themselves to sleep. The lights had dimmed.

Sheets lay wrinkled on the king-sized bed. The comforter hung off the edge of the bed. She’d abandoned the updo the moment they stepped into the suite. Her hair—scattered, edges fuzzy, curls wild—fanned around her angelically.

She was close. Tucked in his side, her face pressed against his neck. Left hand underneath his collarbone—rings heavy on his chest. She pressed close. Squeezed him in her sleep. Fear unaddressed. That he’d be gone when she awoke.

God, don’t separate me from this…

His throat bobbed.

One. Two. Three times.

He lifted his hand—the left. The room was dark; couldn’t see the jewelry, but it was there. Heavy. Permanent.

He’d never take it off. He’d brand it to his flesh. Wouldn’t flinch when the skin burned and split down the middle. The softness of her lips would be healing enough.

His teeth clamped on his bottom lip. Eyes squeezed shut for just a moment. Eyelashes damp. He blinked rapidly, fighting to keep his exposure from unraveling.

But she felt it. The tear. The way it landed on her temple and slid down her cheek. She sat up, slow and unaware. "

“Wait, wait,” she murmured. “What’s wrong?”

The mattress sighed beneath her weight. She tucked her leg between his. Close.

He shook his head. “I’m okay. Promise.”

Amara frowned in the dark. “You’re crying.” She wiped his eyes, rings cold against his warm face.

“I’m good. I’m good,” he replied. “I’m…overwhelmed.”

Please…

“By what, baby?”

Jaafar smiled. She couldn’t see it. The way it wavered. Not for sadness. No. Something deeper. More embodied.

“Gratitude.”

-

what started as a brief exchange about the groom's tastes turned into endless, rolling paragraphs of text messages during every pocket of your spare time. within days, the awkwardness was completely gone.

you found yourself naturally reaching for your phone the second you woke up, checking to see if his name had popped up on your lock screen. the conversation shifted from the wedding to your daily routines, and soon, you were exchanging silly tiktoks from a quiet burner account he used, testing each other's sense of humor and finding an easy, comforting rhythm. you liked him—deeply, genuinely—and the effortless way he matched your energy made you believe, with growing certainty, that he was starting to feel the exact same way.

until you asked:

when are you coming back into town?

the casual text sat on the screen, and the minutes began to stretch. one hour passed, then two. you watched the little typing bubble appear, dance for a few agonizing seconds, and then vanish. it happened over and over again. he was there, staring at the screen, actively thinking about what to say, but completely refusing to send it.

a quiet, familiar knot of anxiety tightened in your chest. you couldn't understand the sudden hesitation. you hadn't asked for a declaration of love; it was a simple question.

you decided to force yourself to back away.

you chalked it up to him being busy with his grueling schedule, setting your phone face down on your desk to let your mind drift into the one place where you had total control: your writing.

you had recently released a young adult romance novel that had unexpectedly skyrocketed onto the bestseller lists, and the sudden success meant your publishers and readers were already loudly demanding a sequel. for hours, you drowned yourself in the fictional world of characters who figured out love a lot easier than real people did. by the time you finally closed your laptop and checked the time, it was almost ten o'clock at night.

on the other side of the screen, jaafar was practically drowning in his own head.

he hadn't meant to take two hours to respond. in fact, he had spent the entire time staring at your message until the blue light of his phone blurred his vision. his thumb had hovered over the keyboard, paralyzed by a sudden wave of panic. when are you coming back into town? the words felt heavy, loaded with a weight he wasn't sure he was ready to carry. was it an innocent question about wedding prep since you were both running the bridal party? or was it an invitation? a date, possibly?

he couldn't decipher your intentions, but more terrifyingly, he couldn't decipher his own.

he knew he liked you. he had known it from the literal second he met you. but the sheer depth of that attraction was terrifying for a man who was still picking up the pieces. fresh out of a divorce from a relationship that had lasted for nearly his entire youth.

for as long as he could remember, his identity had been tied to someone else. he had been a boyfriend, a fiancé, a husband—he didn't actually know who jaafar was just by himself.

the irony wasn't lost on him; he was incredibly grateful that you just saw him as jaafar—not a jackson, not a movie star, just a man. but the moment that reality required him to step forward, his survival instincts kicked in. he panicked.

in a desperate bid to clear his mind, he forced himself into a frenzy of busyness. he threw himself into tasks around his space, putting his phone in another room, trying to force the memory of your laugh and your beautiful smile out of his thoughts. he told himself he was protecting his peace.

but as the hours ticked by and the house grew quiet, the harsh truth settled in his chest: he wasn't protecting himself. he was just self-sabotaging out of fear and he didn't want to lose the easy warmth you brought into his life.

finally, with a shaky breath, he walked back to his phone and picked it up. it was late, close to ten, when his name finally lit up your dark screen.

jaafar: i’m so sorry for the late response, i got completely caught up in some things here. i’ll actually be back in the city later this week, by thursday afternoon.

you watched the screen as another text immediately followed, your breath catching in your throat. the words carrying that familiar, polite gentleness that always made your heart ache.

jaafar: if you're free, and you'd want to, i would really love to hang out. just the two of us.

standing in the quiet of your bedroom, the lingering sting of the two-hour silence dissolved instantly. a slow, brilliant smile spread across your face, the familiar warmth rushing back through your veins as you read the message.

despite the fear keeping him back, he was still trying his best to reach for you.

i’d love to.

when he stepped into the role of his uncle michael, his entire world expanded at an crazy pace. the creative fulfillment was unmatched, a profound joy he would always be grateful for, but the sudden, blinding spotlight that followed brought a wave of public scrutiny.

fame didn't just knock on his door; it broke it down, robbing him of the quiet peace he had always fiercely protected. the pressure worsened the cracks already existing in his marriage, stretching the distance between him and his wife until the silence in their home became too loud to ignore.

the divorce was finalized in the winter. the aftermath left him hollow, sad, existing in a state of quiet, emotional hibernation.

so, when his cousin’s wedding invitation arrived, jaafar’s initial thought was to find an excuse. but this was family. & he was always raised to never turn his back on family. a deep love for his cousin won. he promised himself he would keep his head down, play the part of the supportive groomsman, and retreat back into his quiet world the moment it was over.

the social gathering before the wedding was designed exactly for that—to break the ice and merge two families. the backyard of the engaged couple’s house was alive with music, a low, rhythmic bass vibrating through the patio floor while the warm evening air carried the scent of summer and expensive perfume.

jaafar stood near the edge of the crowd, a drink in hand, politely navigating the small talk but secretly counting down the hours until he could leave.

across the lawn, you were standing with your old undergrad line sisters, completely oblivious to his presence. you had trusted the bride implicitly when she told you that you’d be walking down the aisle with her fiancé's cousin. you hadn't asked questions or demanded a picture; you just laughed and accepted the assignment. it was her day, whatever she wanted.

you were in your element, laughing into your glass, the soft, amber string lights reflecting off the silk, blush pink dress you’d chosen for the night. the color complimented your skin beautifully, making you practically glow against the dark backdrop of the garden. your hair was styled in neat braids with loose, boho pieces framing your face—a detail jaafar would notice the second his eyes accidentally drifted your way.

he froze for a fraction of a second, his gaze lingering on the way you laughed, completely unbothered and grounded.

before you could finish your drink, a familiar hand wrapped firmly around your wrist. your friend—the bride—pulled you away from your circle with an excited, mischievous glint in her eye. "come with me really quick," she urged, hauling you across the grass toward the quiet edge of the patio. "he’s gonna love you. the both of you are so sweet."

you barely had time to smooth down the front of your silk dress before you were standing directly in front of him.

"jaafar, this is the girl i was telling you about," she introduced effortlessly, vanishing back into the crowd before either of you could even blink.

left in a sudden, quiet pocket of the party, jaafar looked down at you, and the protective walls he had built over the last six months suddenly felt incredibly fragile.

for jaafar, the reaction was instant. he thought you were simply beautiful. his eyes traced the elegant drape of your dress before settling on your hair, fascinated by the curly pieces he still didn't know the name for—a detail you’d later laugh at him for when he clumsily tried to describe them. he was completely enamored.

"hi," he said, his voice a low, melodic cadence that instantly calmed the sudden nerves in your chest. "it's really nice to meet you. i guess we're walking down the aisle together."

he was, without a doubt, the most soft-spoken, sweetest man you had ever encountered. when he smiled, a gentle, genuine expression that sent a sudden, completely unexpected flutter of butterflies straight to your stomach.

"it looks like it," you smiled, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. "she told me i was paired with her fiancé's cousin, but she conveniently left out how charming you were."

a genuine, slightly surprised laugh escaped him, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners. you were flirting. with him. he couldn’t believe it. "well, i'm glad she kept some secrets. it gives me a chance to make a good first impression."

the conversation flowed with an ease that neither of you anticipated. when jaafar asked what you did for a living, your face lit up in a way that captivated him entirely.

"i'm a writer," you confessed, a small, self-deprecating smile playing on your lips. "i write romance. i guess being a hopeless romantic all my life actually paid off."

"there are worse things to be," jaafar murmured softly, his eyes locked onto yours. "writing about love sounds like a beautiful way to spend your time."

you thanked him before asking what he did for work himself. he replied saying that he took a break from his music career to pursue acting.

you watched his face, the soft lines of his jaw, the specific structure of his brow as he talked, until a sudden wave of recognition washed over you. the pieces clicked together all at once. "wait," you said, your eyes narrowing slightly. "you just did the michael movie last year, didn't you?"

jaafar’s smile turned slightly shy, a classic, modest reaction that belonged entirely to him. he braced himself internally for the usual onslaught of questions, the sudden shift in energy that always happened when people realized who he was.

but instead of prying, you just offered him a warm, deeply genuine smile. "wow. that's amazing, congratulations. you must be incredibly proud."

and then, you simply let it go. you didn't dwell on the film, the fame, or his family name. you shifted the topic right back to a joke your friend had made earlier, completely refusing to treat him like a celebrity. a physical wave of gratitude washed over jaafar. you were treating him like a human being existing in the present moment, a rare luxury he hadn't realized he was starving for.

the two of you continued to talk for what felt like hours, discovering shared tastes in music and laughing about the chaotic energy of wedding rehearsals. jaafar found himself laughing more than he had in the last half-year combined.

finally, the crowd began to thin, and the reality of the late hour caught up.

"i should probably head out," you said softly, checking your phone. "the bride expects us up early tomorrow."

"let me walk you to your car," jaafar offered immediately, not wanting the night, or the feeling you gave him, to end just yet.

the walk through the quiet driveway was peaceful, the cool night air a stark contrast to the humid afternoon. when you reached your driver's side door, you turned around to face him, leaning back against the car.

"see you at the rehearsal dinner?" he asked.

"i'm pretty sure the bride would kill me if i missed it, so i’ll definitely be there," you joked.

you stepped forward, offering him a slight, polite hug goodbye. it was a brief touch—your arms brushing against his shoulders, the soft silk of your dress whispering against his shirt—but as you pulled away, your scent lingered in the space between you. it was something warm, sweet, and distinctly feminine, a mixture of vanilla and something uniquely yours.

"drive safely," he said, watching you get into the car.

as your taillights vanished down the driveway into the night, jaafar stood there for a moment, hands shoved into his pockets. he took a deep breath, and he could have sworn that your scent followed him, wrapping around him like a quiet promise.

You usually have quick reflexes, but you were so caught off guard by the current situation. One moment, you're minding your business as usual, walking down the street. The next moment, an attractive man is grabbing you by the shoulders.

"I'm so sorry to do this to you." The man spoke.

"What?" You were baffled.

"I need you to pretend for me."

"What?" You repeated, not understanding.

He didn't even explain before a woman yelled out a name and stomped down the street. You looked at her as her furious eyes landed on you as he moved out of her line of sight. She looked at you with a confused expression. You almost felt scrutinized under her gaze.

"Who is that?" She said.

"Why do you keep doing this?" The man ignored her question.

"Michael, don't play with me." The woman grew irritated quickly. "Who is that?"

"Someone that I know, someone I'm seeing."

You quickly turned your head to the side to look at him with bewilderment. But quickly schooled your face when you remembered his words.

"Huh." She stared at you; it was very passive-aggressive.

"You with her now?" She quickly said. "What a downgrade."

They both looked at you when you let out a humorless laugh. "I don't know who you are." You gave her a sharp look. "But I'm not the one."

"Look, I understand you're upset with her, but don't disrespect her," Michael said in a sharp tone.

You appreciate the words even though you two are practically strangers. He still backed you up against her.

She looked at you and Michael like you both had the audacity. "So you date commoners now?"

"Commoners?" You tilted your head. "Girl, what the hell?"

"I can show you a commoner." You said as you stepped closer, but Michael held you back.

"She is way less drama than you were." Michael sighed. "Don't say, commoners, you sound pretentious."

"You were doing way too much; I feel like you're only with me cause what I come with," Michael said.

"Not me or my personality." Michael looked at her.

"So you think someone with less of the fraction of what you have can understand?"

"I like the way you assume I'm not a part of whatever circle."

"Baby, I can tell those shoes are last season," she told you.

"I like these boots." You mumbled.

"Look, we had our run," Michael said. "You have to let it go."

"Michael, you can't be serious; we look good together."

"Now let me tell you in a way you can understand." He tilted his head. "I'm not with you anymore."

You saw her expression drop, and even though you didn't know this woman, you felt satisfaction.

"Stop calling my 'fuckin house, scaring my mother."

"And stop following me, and this is the last time I tell you."

You wrapped your arm around his to make it more believable. "Yeah, cause he has someone new now." You fluttered your eyelashes.

"Yeah, whatever." She glared at Michael, her eyes staying on yours longer.

"Have fun with my leftovers." She scoffed before walking away.

"You can't act like when you were the one chasing his ass across the city." You yelled after her.

Michael turned to you. "I'm sorry for that; I had to do something cause she had been tailing me for days."

"She sounds exhausting." You laughed.

"It wasn't always like that."

"If you can believe it, she used to be nice." Michael shrugged his shoulders.

"I find it very hard to believe that she was a nice person; maybe she did that for you."

"Maybe."

Michael tilted his head at you like he was trying to figure something out. "My name is Michael; what is yours?"

You told him your name. "Nice to meet you, pretend boyfriend."

"Yeah."

You controlled the silence since you didn't like awkwardness. You had things to do, like getting more fabric for the design ideas you had.

"It was great to help, but I have some things to do now." You gave a light smile.

You didn't expect the next words to come out of his mouth.

"Can I come with you?"

"You want to do that?" You said slowly.

"Sorry, that sounds weird." Michael looked away. "I need to get away."

"Get away?"

"It's complicated to explain." Michael sighed.

"Okay." You raised an eyebrow.

"I need to get some fabrics." You told him as you started to walk.

"Fabrics?" Michael questioned.

"Yeah, I'm a fashion designer." You nodded your head. "My boss wanted some new designs."

"Do you find that fun?" Michael asked.

"The designing or shopping?" You retorted back.

"Both, I guess."

"Well, shopping can be stressful, especially when they don't have what I want." You looked up in thought.

"But designing is my passion. I loved it forever." You told him.

"You always wanted to be a fashion designer?"

"Yeah, not me working under somebody, but yes, I have."

"You want your own company."

"In the far future, I see it for myself."

"You ask a lot of questions." You chuckled.

"Is that a bad thing?" Michael tilted his head.

"No, I don't mind questions at all."

You looked up and noticed you were in front of the fabric store. "We're here."

You opened the door, leaving it open for him to come in.

"I don't know if this would be a weird question." You turned your head to him as you walked through the aisles.

"I usually match skin tones to fabrics." You looked towards the large fabric aisle at Michael.

"Do you mind if I use you too?"

"No, I don't mind at all." Michael smiled.

"Great!" You clapped your hands together.

You looked over the options of patterns and colors. "I need something vibrant, something bright."

"Gold? Yellow or orange." Michael threw out colors.

"You're into something with yellow; I don't think I've done that color before." You nodded your head.

You looked through the different variations of yellow. Putting them against your skin and Michael's. You also looked for secondary colors that could contrast with the yellow.

You put up a shade of blue against Michael. "Blue looks good on you."

"Really?" People have told me that."

"Yeah, it looks great against your skin. Do you wear it often?"

"Not but I should."

You eventually gathered everything that you needed. You walked to the register, placing everything on the counter. The cashier was ringing everything in, and you tried to ignore that Michael was in your personal space. You could smell the fragrance on him; it smelled like something you couldn't afford.

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. Pretty men make you nervous in general. But something about him is pulling you towards him. Maybe it is the mystery that surrounds him. You know next to nothing, besides that he might be rich, from the earlier convo with that woman.

The cashier said the total, which brought you out of your thoughts. You nodded your head as you opened your purse. But Michael stopped you with a hand.

"I can do it."

"Bu-"

"It's fine, think of it as a way of saying thank you for earlier."

You silently agreed as he pulled out cash. You stepped back a little to give him more space.

"Thank you." You told Michael as he handed you the bags.

"It's not a problem." Michael smiled.

He opened the door for you as you looked around at the busy streets. Watching the people walk by, each in their own world.

Michael looked at you as he tilted his head. "I enjoyed spending this little bit of time with you."

"Me too." You looked at him.

You two let the silence overtake, the only noise being the honking and people talking.

"I want to exchange numbers." Michael broke the silence first.

"Yeah?"

"Only if you want to," Michael added.

"Yeah, I would love to."

You set down the bags you were carrying. You reached inside your purse for a piece of paper. Thanking the high heavens that you always have paper and something to write with you. You set the paper in your hands and wrote your number down.

"Here's my number." You handed the paper to him.

"Thank you." Michael smiled.

You could tell he was about to say more. But a loud honk broke you two out of the moment. You looked to see a black limo pull up. You watched as the driver came out of the car and around.

"Mr Jackson, you can't just run off like that." The driver said.

Michael sighed as if he had just been caught. "I needed to get away."

"Your family is worried about you; she came, and you disappeared."

"But it's fine now." Michael looked at you.

"I can see that." The driver tilted his head at you.

"We have to go now, Michael."

Michael sighed as he turned completely to you. "Thank you again." He reached his hand to squeeze your arm."

"You're very welcome." You smiled.

Michael smiled at you for the last time before he started to walk to the limo. The driver opened the door. Michael paused, turning his head again. "I'll remember to call you; look out for me.

"I'll look forward to it." You waved your hand at him with a smile. "Bye, Michael."

"Bye." The door closed, leaving you to look at the sleek back door.

Chapter I: A Case of the Mistaken Daddy

You walk into the daycare and greet the receptionist, Connie, at the front desk. 

“How’s she doing?” You ask, concern lacing your voice. 

“She’s a little down. She’s been throwing up and mostly lying around,” Connie explains, sympathy coloring her tone. This was one of the things that you enjoyed most about this daycare. They actually cared about the kids and valued them like they were their own. It wasn’t easy for you when you had to go back to work and put Nova into daycare. It’d been just the two of you for the first year of her life. 

Your parents and friends were great at helping you take care of her, especially since she was your first child. But you didn’t want to burden them with the responsibility of taking care of Nova when she was your daughter. Plus, it’d be pretty demanding trying to drive Nova out to your parents’ house early in the morning and then picking her up after work. 

No, you were an adult now, which meant you had to make adult decisions. You were thorough with your search for a daycare for your little girl. You’d seen enough horror stories to know that you needed to be careful about where you sent your baby.

You landed on Miss Sunshine’s. 

A daycare run by a woman named Ms. Berta Jones. The woman is the literal embodiment of sunshine and safety. You’d brought Nova along with you to meet the woman and her staff. Within five minutes of meeting Ms. Jones, Nova was sitting in the woman’s lap like she’d known her for ages.

It also helped that Miss Sunshine’s would be teaching Nova things like her ABCs, numbers, and other things all before she reached Pre-K. It was a done deal for you, and the price wasn’t bad either.

You had left work early to pick up Nova after you got a call that she was throwing up. You follow behind Connie as you spot Nova lying on her little cot. It breaks your heart to see your baby so down. 

You walk over and kneel in front of her, “Hi, Nova baby. I heard you aren’t feeling so good.”

Nova pouts at you, big tears filling her small eyes, “Mama.”

She reaches up for you, and you immediately take her into your arms. In return, she wraps her limbs around you and stuffs her face into your neck. You run a soothing hand up and down her back while whispering gentle words to her. Connie walks up and hands you Nova’s bag before smiling softly at the little girl, “I hope you feel better, Nova. We’ll be right here when you get back, okay?”

Nova gives her a weak smile in return, along with a small ‘mhm.”

Outside, you strap Nova inside her booster seat before starting the drive to her pediatrician. You spare fleeting glances back to her in the mirror to continue to monitor her condition. The anxiety inside you spikes up more at the helpless look on her face. Pulling into the parking lot, you carry Nova inside the doctor’s office before walking up to the front desk.

Amanda, the receptionist, whom you’d grown fond of, smiles softly at you and Nova. “Oh dear, I was so worried when you called to make an appointment for Nova. Dr. Ashmore is just wrapping up with a client. She’ll be ready for you two soon.”

“Thanks, Amanda,” you reply before going to take a seat. 

You look down at Nova as she plays with the necklace around your neck. “Hey lovebug, you wanna play games on my phone while we wait?”

Nova shakes her head. You know that she has to be feeling awful if she declines to see your phone. The fact only makes the nerves in your stomach worse. It’s only a few moments later that you’re called back by one of the nurses. You clutch Nova tighter to yourself as you walk to the back. The nurse gets all of Nova’s vitals. 

She places the thermostat in Nova’s mouth before waiting to hear the beep. You watch intensely as she holds the numbers up to her face and frowns. 

“What? Is there something wrong?” You ask. 

The nurse gives you a tense smile, “It appears that Nova’s temperature is at 108. That’s a very concerning temperature. I know that this is going to sound scary, but I need you to take Nova to the Emergency Room right now, okay? I know someone there, and I’ll call to let them know that you’re on your way and you need to be seen immediately.”

You feel lightheaded for a second. The words ‘108’ and ‘Emergency Room’ all send your blood pressure skyrocketing, but you know that you can’t panic in front of Nova. She’s probably scared enough as it is. 

You nod at the nurse, and you know that she can blatantly tell how scared you are. 

She grabs your hand, “It’s going to be okay. They have some of the best doctors on staff there. When you make it to the front desk, ask for Dana Evans. She’s going to get you seen quickly, okay?”

“Okay, thank you.” 

You carry Nova to the car and strap her in again. You drive a bit quicker than when you initially came to the doctor’s office, but still at an appropriate speed to not get pulled over. You try to keep things as calm as possible for Nova by talking with her. 

You watch as her face crumples and tears fill her eyes, “Mama..” 

“It’s okay, baby. We’re almost there. Just one second.” 

You recognize the distinct sound of Nova throwing up before she fully starts to cry. Luckily for you, you pull into the PTMC parking lot before moving to the back to grab Nova. Fortunately, she managed to throw up mostly on the floor and less on her clothes. You take a wipe and run it across her chubby face before wrapping her in your arms. 

When you walk through the doors, it’s clear that you’re a very concerned mother in need of help. You spot a blonde lady standing at the desk, “Excuse me, I’m looking for Dana Evans. My daughter is sick, and her nurse said she had a temp of 108 and she just threw up.”

You ramble through the words, light tears pricking at your eyes, before the woman places her hand over yours. 

“Hey, breathe with me, honey. You’re okay. I’m Dana. Nancy called and said you’d be on your way. I have the room open for you already. Let’s get you and little Miss all settled.” You walk behind Dana while continuing to soothe Nova, who’s looking around the hospital in curiosity. 

Dana is thorough in making sure that you and Nova are comfortable. She’s checking Nova’s vitals all while talking sweetly to her. “What’s your name, Princess?”

Nova smiles shyly, “Nova.”

“Nova. That’s a really pretty name. How old are you?”

Nova holds up one finger, to which Dana smiles, “One year old. Wow, you’re a big girl!” 

The door opens, and possibly the most attractive man that you’ve ever seen in your life walks into the room. A girl in similar scrubs walks in behind him.

Dana looks at you, “This is Dr. Abbot. He’s one of our best. This is Dr. Samira Mohan. They’re both going to make sure that you’re taken care of today.” She gives Jack and Samira your name before handing them the chart. She gives you and Nova one last smile before exiting the room.

Jack looks at the chart before looking back at you, “Can you walk me through what’s going on?”

You take a deep breath, “Her daycare called me today and said that she’d been throwing up. I picked her up and took her to her pediatrician, and they said she was running a fever of 108, and we needed to get Nova here immediately. She also threw up on the way here.”

Jack nods before looking over at Nova, “Hi there, sweetie. I’m Dr. Abbot, can I take a look to see what’s wrong?”

Nova looks at the man in awe, but doesn’t appear to be put off by him at all. Jack takes this as a sign and starts to listen to her heartbeat. Nova watches him the whole time in pure curiosity. Jack catches her inquisitive stare before smiling at her. In response, Nova turns her head shyly. 

He checks her temperature again before frowning, “We need to get her temperature down. Dr. Mohan, can you get me an IV-pack set up? She’s a bit dehydrated, and I want to get fluids in her. Also, bring me some Tylenol.”

Dr. Mohan nods before leaving the room. 

Jack spares a glance over in your direction and can sense the worry oozing from you. 

“First one?” He questions. 

You lift your eyebrows in surprise, “Is it that obvious?”

He nods before chuckling softly, “I’ve been a doctor for a long time, and I can spot the difference at this point, but I can assure you, I’ll do my best to take care of her.”

“Thank you, Dr. Abbot.” You respond, sparing a soft smile at the man. There’s a quick moment of fluttering in Jack’s chest as you smile at him. He admits to himself that you’re really pretty. 

He shakes his head before looking back in Nova’s direction, “What’s your favorite color, sweetie?” 

“Ink,” Nova responds. Jack knows that she means ‘pink.’ He’d always found that the beginning stage, when kids were still learning to pronounce words very enduring. He asks her a few more simple questions as she answers shyly. He can tell that she still doesn’t feel well, and it makes his heart clench in ways that he’s not comfortable acknowledging right now.

Soon, Samira arrives back in the room with the IV pack. You pale at the sight of the needle before looking back down at Nova. You grab her stuffed bunny, Bun Bun, from her bag before handing it to her. “Hey, Nova, look, here’s Bun Bun. He’s going to sit right here with you and be so strong for you, okay?”

Nova looks at you with wide eyes before hugging Bun Bun to her chest. Jack grabs the needle from Samira before scooting closer to Nova. He and Nova both make eye contact as his gaze softens, “Okay, sweet girl, just a slight pinch and you’ll feel better.”

Nova looks at Jack like she understands what he’s saying. It makes his heart clench even more to know that the needle will be pricking her skin. Much to yours and Samira’s amusement, Jack starts to make a funny face at Nova before sliding the IV in her arm. 

She flinches at the quick stab before the fat tears start welling in her eyes. Her bottom lip starts to jut out before she lets out a sob. Jack rationalizes that he’d do anything in his power to never see the little girl cry again. 

You rub your hand along Nova’s curls while pressing gentle kisses to her forehead and whispering in her ear. Jack looks down at the little girl, “I’m really sorry about that, Nova. How about I bring you a special treat later for being such a big girl?” 

The tears in Nova’s eyes slow down, and she nods her head at Jack. Soon, her little eyes get droopy as the medicine begins to take effect. Her long lashes droop over her chubby cheeks as she lets out small breaths. In that moment, Jack believes that she looks like the cutest kid in the world. 

He looks back at you, “We’ll be back to check on her later. I’d be comfortable with keeping her here for a few hours, just till we’re sure that her fever has broken.” 

“Okay, thank you so much, Dr. Abbot,” you respond, before looking over in Samira’s direction, “Thank you as well, Dr. Mohan.”

Jack and Samira both nod and give you a smile before exiting the room to take on other cases and check on their patients. Samira turns to Jack, “You were really good in there with her. She was totally comfortable with you.”

Jack shrugs, “Years of experience, kid. You pick up a few things along the way.”

Samira smiles before walking off in the other direction. Jack saddles up to the front desk next to Dana, who shoots him a glance, “How’s our little lady doing in there?”

“She’s good. She went to sleep. I’m gonna keep her and her mom here for a few hours to monitor her fever.”

Dana nods while typing on the computer, “Sounds good. I’ll have Emma check in on them.”

Jack turns his head sharply, “No, that’s fine. I got it.”

Dana eyes him suspiciously, “Okay then. I didn’t realize you had such a strong attachment to children.” Jack clocks the teasing tone in her voice and rolls his eyes before leaving the desk. 

Dana chuckles under her breath as she watches Jack leave.

As suspected, Jack gets caught up in numerous cases, but he gets Emma to give him updates on you and Nova when he has a free second. When he finally has a second, he immediately darts in the direction of the room where you and Nova are. 

You have Bun Bun in your hands, and you’re doing a deep voice while moving the stuffed animal around. Nova is laughing and squealing in delight as you make the stuffed rabbit give her kisses. 

“I see someone’s feeling a lot better,” Jack comments, stepping into the room.

Nova lights up at seeing Jack walk into the room, a wide grin overtaking her chubby face. 

“Dada!”

You and Jack both pause in surprise. You’re holding Bun Bun in the air with your eyes widened. Jack closes and opens his mouth a few times before looking at you.

You give him a sheepish look before turning to Nova, “Hey..Dr. Abbot isn’t Dada. He’s just the nice doctor who’s helping you.”

You try to get your little girl to nod along with you in agreement, but she frowns at you before looking back at Jack. Nova smiles once again, “Dada.” 

You sigh before looking at Jack, “I’m so sorry. She doesn’t typically even say that.” 

Jack recollects himself before smiling at you, “It’s fine. Happens all the time.”

Which is definitely a big fat lie. There are definitely no kids in the ER who are calling him Dada. In fact, Jack has to admit that in all of his twenty-something years of being a doctor, this is a new experience for him. He walks closer to the bed and sits down to check over Nova. 

She looks a lot better than when she was first admitted. Jack notes the color that’s come back into her brown skin, along with how much more lively that she is now. He also clocks the look of admiration that she’s shooting him. 

He smiles down at her, “You feeling all better, Nova? Let’s check your temperature. Say aahh..”

Nova lets out a loud ‘aahh’ before clasping her lips around the thermometer. Jack waits for the sound of the beep before turning it in his direction. He smiles at the results before looking at you, “Her temp’s dropped down significantly. It seems like she’s taking the meds really well. I’m going ot get you two discharged, and I recommend switching between giving her Tylenol and Tamiflu. I’ll put in a prescription for you to pick up. What pharmacy do you use?”

“CVS,” you reply. 

Jack nods, “Okay, I’d also recommend keeping her at home for a few days and keeping her hydrated. Start her off with small meals like soups and crackers before upgrading to bigger meals. If any other symptoms persist, bring her back here immediately, okay? You can even ask for me.”

Your surprised eyes meet Jack’s again, “That’s a really generous offer. Thank you so much for everything, Dr. Abbot.” 

You hold his gaze for a couple of seconds before Nova starts making small sounds as she plays with Bun Bun. Jack smiles at Nova, who holds the stuffed rabbit up to Jack, “Bun Bun.” 

Jack nods, “Yeah, I can see that. He’s really cute.” 

Nova smiles at the praise before holding Bun Bun out to Jack, “Dada.”

It’s only when she looks between Jack and Bun Bun that you both recognize that she’s introducing Jack as “Dada” to Bun Bun. Good lord. 

Jack plays it cool. He gently removes the needle from Nova’s arm as he places a pink Band-Aid over the sore. She doesn’t even seem to mind it all. She takes it all like a big girl and smiles at Jack or “Dada” as she has so intensely insisted upon. 

You’re about to pick Nova up from the bed when she turns away from you. She turns to Jack as she looks up at him with wide, expectant eyes and pouty lips. You try again to pick the little girl up, but she begins to whine and reaches for Jack again. 

The tears are back again, “Dada..”

Jack looks over at you, to which you give him a rather helpless look. He scratches the back of his neck, “I’m fine with holding her until we get to the front desk. Plus, it’ll make it easier while you fill out the discharge papers.”

Truthfully, he doesn’t fully come out and say that Nova’s pulling at his heartstrings. 

You nod, biting your lip softly, “Okay, I’m really sorry again, Dr. Abbot. I don’t know what’s gotten into her, but she seems to like you a lot.” 

Jack waves you off, even though he’s dying to hold Nova and he’s literally bursting at the seams at her cuteness. Nova lifts her arms, and Jack gladly scoops her up. He takes Bun Bun in his hand and lowers his voice, “Hi, Nova, you were such a brave girl today.”

Nova laughs and curls her small body into Jack’s once more. He can’t deny that he likes how natural it all feels, especially with how you’re smiling at him and Nova. He gently bounces the little girl in his arms as she wraps her own arms around his neck. He can even hear her softly whispering “Dada” into his shoulder, and she holds Bun Bun.

Jack hopes not to draw too much attention to the three of you, but as usual, luck’s not on his side. It appears that everybody and they mama decided that this exact moment was the moment that they all needed to be at the desk.

Simultaneously, everyone turns their heads to look at the three of you. Jack has to admit, you all do look like a cohesive family unit. He doesn’t even want to begin to acknowledge what he feels when he thinks about it.

Robby eyes the little girl in Jack’s arms before shooting him a questioning look. Jack shakes his head in response. 

Dana’s obviously amused by the situation as she smirks at Jack, “Well, it seems like our little lady has taken a liking to you. You feeling better, sweetie?”

Nova lifts her head and catches all of the adults staring up at her. She curls herself into Jack’s arms and looks up at him, “Dada.” 

A wave of silence overtakes the group as they all hear Nova calling Jack “Dada.” Jack doesn’t move to correct Nova, but in his honest defense, how would he?

Was he just supposed to chastise the little girl and break her heart?

Nope, he’ll be Dada for the time being. He’s sure that she’ll forget all about Jack once she leaves the ER. A bitter nagging settles in his stomach at the thought of her forgetting him. 

Mel, never one to read the room, looks between you, Jack, and Nova. “I didn’t know you had a kid, Dr. Abbot.”

“He doesn’t,” You chime in, signing the discharge papers and glancing at Jack and Nova. 

You smile softly at him, “Nova’s just taken a liking to him, hence the nickname.” 

Jack takes the opportunity to sit Nova on the counter and holds her steady. She kicks her chubby legs back and forth as she babbles and waves Bun Bun around. Jack listens intently, even though he doesn’t have a clue what she’s talking bout. 

“Hey sweetie, you want a sticker?” Dana asks, pulling out the sticker sheet.

Nova smiles and claps in excitement as Dana places a big pink smiley face on her t-shirt. She looks at you and Jack in excitement, “Mama! Dada! Look!”

You gasp in surprise and smile, “Oh my Nova girl, look at that. You were such a big girl today. That means we can go and watch all the Bluey that you want!” 

Nova gasps and looks at Jack, “Dada! Bluey!”

Jack smiles, even though he has no clue who Bluey is. “That’s great, kiddo! You be good for mommy, okay?” Nova nods with a wide smile. Jack’s heart melts even more at the little girl.

You hand the discharge papers to Dana before scooping Nova up in your arms. You press a kiss against her chubby cheek, which causes her to giggle. You glance at Jack, “Thank you again for everything, Dr. Abbot. We really appreciate it.” You glance down at Nova, “Nova, tell Dr. Abbot bye-bye.”

Nova looks at you like you’re speaking Spanish before turning her gaze back to Jack. It seems like it only takes her brain about two seconds to comprehend that she’s leaving “Dada” behind. 

Almost instantly, the tears start welling up in her eyes as her pout increases. Everyone at the desk watches with bated breath until the little girl begins sobbing hysterically and reaching out for Jack. 

“Dadaa..” Nova cries, big tears rolling down her cheeks. 

You try your best to soothe Nova by presenting Bun Bun to her. It only seems to make her cry harder for Jack. You give everyone a sheepish smile before turning to leave the ED. You always knew that your baby would be dramatic, and if there’s an award for Best Child Actress in Motion Picture Drama, your daughter was hands down sweeping that award. 

It breaks Jack’s heart to see Nova crying out so helplessly for him, so he takes a step in your direction.

“Hey, what if I carry her out to the car for you? I mean, you’ve had a long day, and maybe this’ll make the transition easier for her,” He suggests. 

You give him a tired nod before passing Nova off to him. Almost immediately, Nova’s tears dry up, and she smiles at Jack while draping her arms around his shoulder, “Hi, Dada.”

“Hi, Nova,” He says with a chuckle. 

He rocks her in his arms as you both walk out of the ED towards your car.

At the front desk, everyone turns to look at each other. 

“That was weird, right? We can all agree that the whole scenario was weird,” Trinity comments, to which everyone hums in agreement. But it’s the Pitt, everything’s always weird there.

Outside, Nova has managed to fall asleep once again on Jack’s shoulder. Her tiny breaths tickle Jack’s neck, but he doesn’t mind. He’s holding Bun Bun in his hand after he started to droop from Nova’s. You open your car door before reaching for Nova. Jack passes her and watches carefully as you strap her in.

To any outsider, it would truly just look like you and Jack were a married couple with your daughter. They’d never be able to guess that Jack had just met you and Nova only hours before.

You close the door gently and turn back to face Jack, “Thank you. I know that I’ve said it like a million times, but I really do appreciate all of your help tonight. I was really nervous about Nova.”

“It’s no problem at all. Nova seems like a really great kid, and I can tell that you’re an amazing mom,” Jack comments.

You smile and rock on your heels nervously. It’s not every day that a super sexy silver fox doctor is complimenting your parenting skills. You realize that you’re staring and snap out of the daze, “It was really nice meeting you, Dr. Abbot. The world needs more compassionate doctors like you.”

“Jack..” He corrects softly.

You give him a look of confusion, to which he clarifies, “You can call me Jack.”

“Okay, see you around, Jack.”

He smiles at you one last time before watching you and Nova drive off.

Yep, he needs the day off after this. Secretly, his heart yearns to see you and Nova again.

to be continued…

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he’s always stealing candid pics of you when you’re not looking. you’re half asleep on the plane with your mouth slightly open? click. you’re staring out the window at the sunset with that soft little smile? click. you’re struggling to open a snack bag like it personally offended you? click.

every trip has an official 'photo diary'. he’ll sit on the hotel balcony at 2am editing the day’s pics while you’re curled up in bed and he keeps whispering 'babe look at this one' every five seconds. you pretend to be annoyed but you love seeing how he sees you

jaafar is BIG on the 'stop, you gotta stand right here' moments. you’ll be walking through some pretty european street and suddenly he’s grabbing your hand, spinning you around, and positioning you in the golden hour light like you’re his personal muse. “just trust me, baby” — sir i’ve been standing here posing for ten minutes my legs are tired

he has an entire section on his camera roll labeled 'you + the world' and it’s the softest shit ever. pictures of your hands intertwined with different city backgrounds, your silhouette against mountains, you laughing while feeding street cats in italy…he prints some of them and puts them in a little travel journal he keeps

lowkey protective of his camera but will let you use it without hesitation. the one time you accidentally changed a setting and took blurry pics he just laughed, kissed your forehead, and said 'we’ll call these abstract art'

nighttime balcony shoots are a THING. after a long day exploring he’ll set up his camera for long exposure shots of the city lights and make you model in his hoodie or his jacket. half the time it turns into a full-on makeout session and the pics come out all blurry and dreamy and he still keeps them because 'they feel like us'

he gets this really focused look when he’s taking pictures of you and it makes you shy every single time. like the way his eyes soften behind the lens? lethal. you once asked him why he takes so many and he just shrugged and said 'i never wanna forget how you look when you’re happy with me'

surprise photo dumps on his close friends story that are literally just 47 pics of you. his friends are in the group chat like 'jaafar we get it' and he replies with more pics 💀

whenever you’re feeling insecure or having a bad travel day he pulls up the camera and starts hyping you up through the lens until you’re giggling and posing. it’s his love language at this point

by the end of every trip your suitcase has a new stack of printed polaroids or film scans that he secretly got developed. he labels them with dates and little notes like 'first time you tried real gelato' or 'the day you stole my heart in santorini again'

he’s not just documenting the places you go, he’s documenting the love story in real time and it’s the most jaafar thing ever 🥹