“I’m so glad you're back!” Ailin ran up to Noah and jumped up to hug him. “I missed you so much! I love you!”

She hung onto his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. He grunted and took a step back to steady himself, but he smiled. Every day that he got home from work before the sun went down and she was home, his wife reacted the same way, like she was waiting the entire day to see him. He hugged her back, putting his head into her neck, inhaling the coconut smell of her blonde hair. Against his arms, he felt the strong muscles on her back when he squeezed her tight.

“I love you, too, baby doll.”

It was her turn to grunt and then delightfully squeak when he spun with her encased in his arms. He had learned to take off his gear and badge in the locker room before going home when she had first moved in over five years ago. 

It was right before they got married; she had accidentally hit the panic button on his radio. Being one of the younger policemen at the time, he had taken so much shit for months after that. He didn’t stop doing paperwork until three months later when he got married. That had been his former captain’s wedding present.

It always made Noah sad to think about Captain Ruiz. That old bastard always busted his balls for every mistake he made ever since he was a rookie at twenty-three, but he always did it with the intention of making Noah learn how to be a better officer. Captain Ruiz was such a great father figure for Noah, it was such a shame that he had died only a year into retirement. To this day, Noah still credited him for guiding him to where he was now, a Sergeant.

“I made you quesabirria.” Noah’s mouth instantly watered. 

Then he thought, she only makes that for me when she wants something.

If anyone looked at Ailin, they would never expect her to be anything other than a European white woman, maybe even German-American like Noah, because of her blonde hair and porcelain skin, but she was a güera. A white Mexican. Being the only one in her large family to take after her grandmother on her dad’s side, she had grown up constantly getting bullied in that lovingly hateful way only latino families can pull-of. They called her Casper, a Mennonite, geisha, and Guéra. And when her more Americanized cousins used to visit her when she still lived in Santa Isabel, Chihuahua during her middle school years, they would call her McLovin. Because she was a pasty white nerd. 

Luckily for her, the bullying had worked in her favor, at least physically. They had motivated her to work so hard on herself that when she moved to the United States for high school, she was involved in every sport she could be every year. For four years she had played on the volleyball team during the fall, the basketball team during the winter, and she was a track star during the spring. She had stayed away from soccer because she really didn’t want to fall into the stereotype.

He looked at her suspiciously, an amused grin on his face. “What do you want, honey-trapper?”

She started pulling him by his hand into the house. “Nothing! Can’t I just do something nice for you because I love you?”

Hmmm, he wondered out loud, letting her know he was skeptical, but he didn’t push it. Once inside, she didn’t even let him put his backpack in the study as she dragged him to the table. He watched her through narrowed eyes as she moved around the kitchen grabbing things and putting them on the table. When she noticed the salt shaker was empty, he watched her reach for the refill container at the top of the cabinet. He made to go help her, but the rustle of his clothes caused her to turn around.

“No, mi amor, relax! I’ll get it.” She smiled sweetly at him and jumped to reach it, landing softly on the balls of her feet.

Noah laughed, she wasn’t really that short, she was five foot six inches, but the top counter was so high up that she always—well nearly always now—asked him to grab things for her from there. He was a little over 6’, so it wasn’t a big deal, he had been reaching all the high places for everyone since he was a sophomore in high school. So her not letting him help her is what finally convinced him there was something fishy going on. 

She thinks she’s slick, he thought, smiling a knowing smile while shaking his head.

When she had finally finished grabbing everything they needed to start eating, he had three quesabirria tacos sitting on a plate with the birria broth on the left, the toppings above, and her famous habanero salsa on the right. He grabbed some of the cilantro and diced onion, putting a generous amount on his tacos. Then he grabbed one of the plastic spoons from the center of the table and used it to put a light amount of salsa. He would never admit it to Ailin, but the habanero always made him have the runs for the next day or two despite how delicious the salsa was. Then, like he had been taught by Ailin’s brother and father, he drowned the taco into the broth. When he pulled it out, the copious amount of broth dripped from the drenched taco, coating his fingers, and then running down his wrists. Ailin always hated that and she shuddered, imagining the broth run down her own skin, but she didn’t say anything now.

He noticed she hadn’t even served herself yet and was just staring at him intently.

“Aren’t you going to serve yourself?”

“I am.” She smiled.

When she didn’t go do just that, he gave her a concerned look.

“I just want to see the look on your face when you bite into it. I think I made them even better this time!” She seemed excited, but still, Noah felt something was off.

He looked at the taco in his hand, pulling it closer to his eyes and scanned.

“Did you poison them?” he teased.

“Mch.” Ailin's trademark annoyed noise almost made a smile break through his mock-concerned face and she smacked his arm.

“Who are you all of a sudden? My dad?” She scowled, but when Noah looked back at the taco, still concerned, she scoffed, “Of course not! Just take a bite, ¡Dios mío, que exagerado!”

She had grown up catholic, so invoking God’s name let Noah know she was serious. 

Noah opened his mouth, taking a massive bite while Ailin watched him like a hawk. She saw his temples tense with the first chew, then the second. He seemed to move the food in his mouth, savoring it. But then he blinked and looked up at her, raising his eyebrows. A question formed in his eyes but then the flavors hit before he could ask it. First, it was the combination of the spicy salsa, the bitterness of the onions, and the fresh and planty citrus of the cilantro. Then it was the combination of the stripped beef, the melty cheese, and the fried, almost crunchy tortilla punctuated by the oily broth. 

Finally, he swallowed and rolled his eyes. 

“Mmmmm!” 

Ailin smiled so big that it looked like it was going to reach her ears.

“Sí amor? That good?” She leaned in, looking into his eyes, ready to swoop in and strike.

“Oh my god, baby doll, these are the best ones yet! I swear to God!” He expected the scolding he usually got when he profaned the Lord’s name in front of his wife, but it didn’t come.

“You’re not just saying that to make me happy, right?” she asked. Genuine hope plastered on her face.

“No, baby, I’m telling you. These. Are. Amazing!” He readied himself for another massive bite, dipping the taco into the broth again.

“Excellent!” She clapped excitedly before finally getting to it. “Because I just got off the phone with my mom and we talked about the ‘g b’ word. You know, a grandbaby?”

Noah stopped himself from taking another bite and looked at her in mock shock, he knew this was suspicious. Every time Ailin got off a call with Maria, something like this would always happen.

“Gosh dang it! I knew it!” He pointed at her accusingly, half genuine betrayal and half amused. “You were just trying to butter me up like a Thanksgiving ham. You sweet-talking, delicious food-making…Delilah!” He looked at her with that mischievous smile of his that always caught her attention. “You…you…bruja!” When he said it, he tried to say it with as decent of a Mexican accent as he could muster, but his southern, German-American genes were far too strong to let him.

“Uhhhhh,” she gasped, an amused shock splayed on her face. “Noah Benjamín Wagner!” She used the Spanish pronunciation for his middle name.

His eyes went wide before they started laughing together.

After a few minutes, she spoke up again. “Amor, enserio! This is serious!”

He cleared his throat and wiped the tears from his blue eyes. “Baby doll, we talked about this.”

She pouted. “Noooo, you talked. I listened. Now I want to talk and for you to listen!” Her bottom lip quivered.

He sighed, but still his face softened and he raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“Look, I’m twenty-six already. My sister Ana just had her second mocoso! She’s only twenty-one! Aldo is on his fourth and Alicia is due next month! She’s only eighteen! All my cousins, except for the little ones, already have kids! I’m the only one in the family over eighteen who doesn’t!” She thought for a second. “Even some of the teenagers already have a baby!” She crossed her arms, her eyebrows furrowed, determined.

“Baby, look. I know how important this is to you, to your family…but we can’t afford this right now. Between the car loans, the mortgage for this place, the bills, AND our student loans? We’re barely breaking even after groceries.” He ran his hands through his slicked back hair, anxiety building in his stomach. “We don’t qualify for food stamps, we don’t have anyone to help us—” He shrugged, supplicating with his hands for her to understand. “We can’t afford a baby. You know I want them, too. We just can’t.”

Ailin’s lips half-curled as if she was going to snarl. Her eyes were angry, but tears welled in them, seemingly quelling the fire.

“I know that! But, aachh—” she groaned. “We’ll figure it out. We always do! We need this! I need this! I want to be a mother, so bad.” The tears were pouring down the slopes of her beautifully puffy, high-set cheeks. “I want to hold our baby boy—or girl—” she quickly added, “and see you!”

“Well, when we have babies, I hope they look more like you,” Noah muttered.

“They need to look like you!” She had raised her voice a little, something Noah wasn’t used to from her, then she broke down. “I’m sorry! It’s just that, with everything going on…something’s always happening. And you know how I feel about everything, but you’re a good person, a good cop! And I pray—Diosito mío knows how much time I spend praying—that you make it back home to me every day! But what if one of these psychos that’s on the news hurts you? Or what if—” A sob interrupted her, her breath hitching in her throat.

“Baby doll, it’s okay! I’m right here. Look,” he sighed, “I know it’s dangerous, I’m out there every day. I see what happens on the news firsthand. But—” he measured his words, carefully picking out the best response he could, “I do my best every day to prepare myself to avoid that, or hopefully in the worst case scenario, mitigate the damage. You know how hard I train on the mats, how much I run so I don’t run out of steam when shit hits the fan. You know how much time I spend at the range every week. I do it because I want to—I need to come home to you. If I died now, I’d have to wait until you’re nearly a hundred to ever see you again. You dang abuelitas always live so long.” He joked, making her laugh.

He smiled at that to keep the panic inside. 

She knew Reinhard had done horrible things to his psyche. But she didn’t understand any of it. Noah had never let her into that part of him. The extent of Reinhard’s depravity before the old bastard had remarried and how much it impacted Noah. He struggled with that every day. 

But that wasn’t her fault. 

She didn’t know what to look for. Her family experience was too different—loving, caring, community, all to a toxic degree. She couldn’t possibly understand how he felt…even if he did try to explain, could she? 

That, and why he was so scared of becoming a father—he didn’t know how to be one.

When Ailin looked at him, she saw the future father of her children. But when he looked at himself, all he could see was his father’s son.

He needed to tell her, he should tell her. About Reinhard, about their fucked up dynamic, about everything the old bastard made him witness. But he didn’t. Eventually he might try to make her understand everything. Everything but the fear of being a father. He would carry that to his grave.

“Look baby, I understand how you feel. And we will try soon, I promise. Just give us time to pay off at least the cars, then we can talk about it, okay? Just be patient with me, baby.”

She sniffed and looked at her hands, rubbing them like she was trying to clean off a persistent stain. She wouldn’t be able to.

Then she looked up. “Okay.” 

She tried to smile, but it was more of a slight grimace. Noah hugged her tight and then gently cupped her face in his hands. He dried the tears with his thumbs, lightly rubbing her cheeks at the same time. Ailin smiled genuinely this time, a sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. He leaned in to kiss her softly and they lingered like that for several seconds before finally pulling apart.

“Let’s eat, baby.” This time he stood up to serve her a plate of tacos, while she remained seated instead and just stared at the chair he had been sitting in.

It was as empty as she felt in that moment.

He tried his best not to make a sound as he opened the cabinet to get one of their flowery plates, and then served her two tacos. In a bowl, he only served her a little bit of broth, knowing she wouldn’t finish any more than that. When he finally sat down, her eyes regained focus and she tried to smile at him but it was forced. And both of them knew it.

They ate without a word; only the sound of her frequent sniffles broke the silence.

*

Noah

“Wagner!” The perpetual buzz of the records room broke with the thunderous roar of the police chief. 

He was an older man in his late sixties, but with only some salt in his pepper hair, he didn’t look a day over forty-five. The rumors were that he had been on TRT and cycling EPO for almost a decade, among anything else that he could do safely—well, relatively safely. But he swore up and down it was just the carnivore diet and near manic levels of exercise. It was plausible, with how muscular the chief was, but not likely. His face was always red and his head had gone up a couple gallons in hat sizes, something commonly associated with TRT. Besides, he watched JRE, which was a dead ringer for middle-aged men trying to hang onto their prime by any means.

“Where’s that blonde pretty bastard at?” Some of the rookies paled in shock, but the veterans just smiled and shook their heads at Chief Calderon’s language.

“Sir? You called for me?” Sergeant Wagner startled the chief, coming from behind him. The chief looked down to see what Wagner had in his arms: he was carrying a fresh coffee mug in one hand and a Bang energy drink in the other with a stack of papers tucked under his arm. He raised his thick eyebrows as he looked back at Wagner’s face; the sergeant’s eyes were redder than the devil’s cock and his left eyelid was twitching. The poor bastard was on his thirteenth hour on shift getting ready to do paperwork instead of going home and doing it when he got back the next day.

But what Calderon didn’t know was that Wagner didn’t really want to go home today, not after yesterday’s conversation with Ailin.

For a brief moment, Calderon smiled under his thick mustache. This was precisely why Wagner had been on his radar since becoming Sergeant three years ago. The man was always working tirelessly, doing his paperwork in a timely manner, and still showing up for his next shift on time looking like a million dollars—well, maybe only a few thousand right now. But then when he saw the confused, derpy smile on Wagner’s face, Calderon remembered he had to be tough on his officers, so his usual scowl returned almost instantaneously. 

It was like whiplash for Wagner, seeing the chief smile at him, then immediately look pissed again. His own smile disappeared and he tried to hide how hard he gulped. He started to feel the anxiety building in his stomach again and his heart was pounding. But maybe it wasn’t the anxiety, maybe it was the half can of Bang hitting his stomach after he had chugged it in the breakroom.

“Get your ass in my office, Sergeant!” Everyone’s eyes widened at this. Wagner was never called into the office because he was never in trouble. They stared at both of the tall men as they walked out of the room and down the hall towards the supervisor offices.

“Sir, should I be worried?” Wagner asked, eyes wide like a scared child.

The duality of Sergeant Wagner was such an oddity, nearly paradoxical. One thing was being out in the field, adrenaline pumping through his body while he ran after the latest idiot who thought that would be a good idea, and another was speaking to someone who he looked up to and they were seemingly upset at him for a reason he couldn’t perceive. He could handle the former, it was a combination of confidence in his training and instinct that suppressed his apprehension and genetic need to run away from mortal danger. But the latter was far less simple. There wasn’t any training he had ever received on how to be scolded. 

Or maybe the truth was that he had been trained too well.

Calderon grunted, first closing the door behind them and then sitting in his chair.

“Quite the opposite, Sergeant. This is an opportunity.” Wagner’s shoulders visibly relaxed and his tired eyes lit up.

“As you know, Lieutenant Davis is retiring very soon. He tells me one month, but I see his old ass still limping from that gunshot he took last year in the hip.” Calderon’s face shifted, softening ever so slightly. “Truth is I don’t think he lasts more than a few more weeks. He’s lost his nerve, which is a damn shame. I still remember him as a snarky 3rd year almost twenty years ago, always the first to the action and the last to do his paperwork.” Calderon chuckled.

Wagner listened intently. He had the emotional awareness and respect for Davis to suppress a smile, but he was already anticipating where this conversation was headed.

“But since last year, he mostly just wants to do paperwork. I can’t say I blame the poor bastard. I don’t understand it, but I can’t be upset about it either.” Calderon sighed. “He was one of the better Lieutenants we have had since I’ve been here, but that damn gunshot made him age ten years in one. Damn shame.” Calderon repeated, taking off his peaked cap and putting his massive hand on his forehead, massaging his temples with his thumb and index finger.

For the first time since Wagner had known Chief Calderon, the older, dark skinned man looked his age. The lines on his face were deep. The crows feet on his eyes were like the muddy beds of an empty river splitting into smaller streams. Without his face tensed into a scowl, Chief Calderon seemed like he was nearing retirement himself.

“But that’s life,” the chief lamented.

“Ain’t that right?” Wagner agreed.

“So, now we have come to the opportunity. I want to offer you the chance to take his place.” 

Wagner’s face lit up like it was Christmas and Santa had brought him a lifted Chevy Colorado for being such a good boy—err, man.

“Now hold on Wagner, it’s not a given. You still have to pass the written exam first and foremost. Then, you have to go through that interview gauntlet. First with the Psych division, then the other supervisors, and finally with me and Morgan.” Morgan was head of H.R. and Calderon’s wife.

It had only been a hassle the first year of their relationship when they both had yet to ascend to their current positions, but now that they were both at the apex of their respective fields, no one batted an eye.

“That last one is a formality since you’ve never been in trouble with me or Morgan’s side.” Wagner smiled hearing the chief say that. “And with that fancy education, I don’t think that exam will be an issue for you.” Wagner was elated, but he knew he couldn’t celebrate yet. Not until they had removed the chevrons from his uniform and replaced them with a silver bar.

Calderon continued, “So all you have to worry about really is that psych eval disguised as an interview and any jealous supervisors.”

Wagner raised an eyebrow at Calderon’s candor, but his smile didn’t leave his face.

“Thank you, sir! So much. You have no idea how auspicious this is!” Calderon and Wagner stood up together, shaking hands.

“There you go with those fancy words, son,” Calderon quipped, shaking his head. “Make sure you’re ready to take that exam, it needs to be done this week. Now get out of here.” Calderon sat back down in his chair, and Wagner put his hand on the doorknob. 

Before he opened the door, Calderon cleared his throat, that scowl returning to his face. “Wipe that smile off your face, Sergeant. I have a reputation to uphold here.” Calderon allowed himself a sly smile. “And son, go home. Get some rest. Go back to the lovely wife of yours.”

“Yes, sir!” Wagner smiled even wider. Catching himself, he took a deep—very deep—breath, and furrowed his eyebrows, trying to imitate the chief’s scowl as he opened the door and walked back towards the records room. He didn’t have the scowl down quite yet, but he would have plenty of time to practice that face when he was Lieutenant.

*

Getting home late hadn’t been the norm for Noah throughout his career, but lately, he felt like it was. Since November of last year, less than three months ago, he had probably gotten home over an hour late at least twice a week. 

When he finally got home today, Ailin’s car was in the driveway, but the lights inside were off.

That’s odd, he thought.

He carefully opened the door. It was quiet inside, much more quiet than he was used to. And it was dark, so dark he didn’t notice the shoes until he stumbled over them, catching himself on the wall of the small foyer.

“Shit! Why are these here?” He felt like anything above a whisper would disturb the quiet.

Even though the sun had set a couple of hours ago, far past the time Ailin would meet him outside, she would usually be doing something inside the house. As he exited the foyer, the lights were off in the kitchen, too. He thought he would see Ailin cooking or even doing homework on the countertop, but the kitchen was empty. Then he walked a little further into the kitchen and turned his head to the adjoining living room to check if she was doing yoga under the dim light of the tv, but again, nothing. There wasn’t even any Latin music playing from anywhere in the house, which was weird because it was a staple of their household. Noah started to feel like he was inside someone else’s house and not his own. This wasn’t the warm and vibrant space she kept for them.

“Baby doll?” he asked in as loud of a whisper as he dared. If she was asleep, he didn’t want to wake her, but if she was awake, then she would hear him, right? Unless she was doing something that was intensely preoccupying her attention… 

Noah walked down their long hallway, peeking in the open doorways of the guest bathroom and the small study. They were both empty. But as he got closer to the end of the hall, where the master bedroom and the guest bedroom were separated by the hall and a connected bathroom, he could hear two voices. One was unmistakably Ailin’s but the other was a man’s voice he didn’t recognize.

“What the fuck?” Noah whispered to himself.

He slowed down and began to creep towards the master bedroom, his hand inching towards his hip. Realizing he didn’t have any of his gear on and that reaching for his gun would be an overreaction, he instead balled his hand into a fist. He could hear the man speaking in Spanish but Noah didn’t know what the man was saying. Noah still hadn’t learned much Spanish even after a few years short of a decade with Ailin.

He peeked into the room through the open door from the darkness of the hallway. The light from the television flickered as the images changed, but it was muted. Angling his view a little bit, he could see his wife laying down on the bed.

He breathed a massive sigh of relief realizing that she was talking on the phone. Now that he was so close, he could clearly hear her brother’s voice on speaker. He unclenched his fist and was about to open the door when—.

“—piensan que él ni quiere tener un bebé conmigo? Ya he hablado con mi mamá varias veces.” He understood only a few of the words that she spoke, but the ones he did made him feel immediately anxious: quiere was want, bebé was baby, and mamá was mom. With how their conversation had gone yesterday about having kids and her tone of voice now, it wasn’t looking good for him. His anxiety started to kick in again, making his stomach turn over.

But if that’s what she had said, that wasn’t exactly true. He wanted to give Ailin kids, he really did. He just couldn’t see a future where they didn’t end up divorced because of how difficult their life would be trying to stay afloat with a child. He didn’t want to end up like his own mother and father: a shitty relationship ending in divorce and split custody.

That, and his fear of being a father.

If he got this promotion, he wouldn’t have to worry about most of that. He could force his fears down for Ailin, too. Getting that promotion promised to make the life they wanted possible. The raise, contract overtime, and hopefully more self confidence.

Noah’s face soured at the last one. Self confidence? He didn’t need more confidence, did he?

He shook his head and realized he had been standing there like a creep, just staring at his wife, listening in on her private conversation that didn’t involve him. He had already eavesdropped enough.

Didn’t he trust her? 

With that sacrilegious question in his head, he receded back into the darkness of the hall, into the obscuring shadows that hadn’t been present until today. He tried not to make any noise; he didn’t want her to know he had been watching.

*

Ailin

She was just going through the motions. At school, she was pretty sure she had missed vital notes for the midterm coming up. It was just so hard to think about what was in front of her when she kept thinking about what she didn’t have. She didn’t have her mother here, they could only speak on the phone. Being so close to someone emotionally, but separated by distance and time, it was devastating. She didn’t have any of her siblings, her niblings, or even her dad nearly as much as she needed them since they lived in Phoenix while she was in Austin.

And if she was honest, right now it didn’t really feel like she had Noah. Every time she brought up having a baby, he seemed to tense up. He tried to play it off like it was their finances he was worried about, but there was more to it. She didn’t understand what it was. But how could she? He never talked about it. Maybe he didn’t trust her enough to tell her what the real reason was. 

So all she could do with that was make assumptions. And right now her main assumption was that maybe he didn’t want to. But she would never voice that. If she did, it would feel too real, too true. No. It had to be something else, because if it wasn’t, well she didn’t really know what that meant for them. 

In her mind, Ailin could feel her emotions crashing against the dam that was her mental resilience.

At her job, she looked around at all the families. All the sad, broken families trying to feign happiness for the sake of their dying loved one. That’s how she felt, like she was trying to keep up a happy facade, except Noah wasn’t dying.

She was happy with Noah, more than happy, that wasn’t the lie. When she saw him, it made her feel happy, he still gave her butterflies. But when she thought about their future there was uncertainty, and that uncertainty wasn’t coming from her.

“Ailin!” Another of the LPNs shook Ailin to get her attention.

“Oh. Hey.” Ailin’s eyes refocused and she looked at Natasha.

The older woman had a worried look on her face as she looked at Ailin.

“Honey, are you okay? You seem…lost.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m okay, just a little tired.” She lied, trying not to worry her coworker.

“Are you sure? I’ve been trying to get your attention for like a minute. What's wrong, honey?” Natasha looked down at Ailin, putting her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder and examining her face. “Is everything okay?”

Ailin seemingly relaxed with the caring touch from the older woman. Maybe a little too much because Ailin’s work mask faltered for a second and she wiped the tears forming in her eyes.

“Yeah, I am just really stressed with everything.” She dug her thumbnail into her index finger to distract herself with pain. She just needed to make it to her lunch break and she could have a little crying session in the car. She would drive to an empty part of the parking lot and just let herself go there. But not here.

She felt the cracks forming on the dam walls.

“Everything?” Natasha’s concern grew upon seeing the tears Ailin hadn’t let fall.

“Sorry, I mean like, midterms are coming up. Y no se, I am just kind of overwhelmed.” That part wasn’t necessarily a lie.

“Okay, well honey, we need you here right now.” Natasha gestured to their surroundings—at the hospice patients and their families. “If you want to talk about what’s going on later, I’m here for you, you know that…but right now stay with me.”

Ailin nodded. “I’m sorry. I’ll focus. Sorry.”

This was uncharacteristic of Ailin, to bring her home into her work, but this wasn’t something she could just shut out of her mind and ignore until later.

She tried to be present but as the day went on, three hours into her shift, it was just getting to be too much. 

She saw this every day: all of the sad families. The teary-eyed adult children of some of her patients trying to hide the devastation of watching their paragons of love and stability crumble to nothingness. The little kids that can’t understand why mommy or daddy isn’t home as much anymore and why they have to always come to this sad place to even see them. Then inevitably they will ask where mommy or daddy are and why they can’t visit them anymore.

But today, it was more than she could take. Every father, brother, son, husband…was Noah. And worse still, every mother wasn’t her. 

Ailin could feel the cracks expanding, if she didn’t get a break soon, her dam wasn’t going to be able to handle all the pressure.

“Mr. Victor! Mary is coding!” Alyssa, one of the newer nurses came running out of the patient's room.

“Shit! She’s a full code.” The head nurse, Mr. Victor, moved with purpose, telling everyone what to do as calmly as he could. “Ailin, stay with the husband. David, help me grab everythin’. Alyssa, Cody, start workin’ on her.” 

But it wasn't enough. After forty minutes they had stopped.

Ailin had been trying her best to comfort the husband in one of the more private lobbies when Mr. Victor finally came with the bad news.

The husband took the news hard, but better than expected. He had seen the light slowly dim in Mary’s eyes the past few months. He had wanted to have hope, he had even had a promotion at work that he had taken as a good sign from the universe, but it hadn’t been. And deep down he knew that. Even if he hadn’t admitted to anyone, he’d already been preparing for this.

And that’s when the dam finally exploded from the pressure.

Both Mary’s husband and Mr. Victor were surprised when instead it was Ailin who broke down crying. The husband had taken a liking to her because she had treated Mary with dignity and respect, not like a dying woman who needed to be coddled.

“Natasha!” Mr. Victor called the older LPN to the husband as he was forced to pull Ailin away. “Help Mr. Garcia with everything he needs and explain the next steps.”

When they finally got to Mr. Victor’s office, he shut the door. He didn’t want any of the others to see or even hear Ailin’s anguish. Especially not the families.

“She wanted to go to Cherish’s graduation!” Ailin cried.

She had spent a lot of time with Mary during the middle-aged woman's time at the hospice facility. Ailin couldn’t believe she was gone. Just a few days ago they were talking about what Mary had coming up. Her oldest, Cherish, was about to graduate salutatorian from high school in May. Her youngest was going to have his first tennis match. Her husband had gotten a much needed promotion that was going to pay for her medical expenses. Mary had so much hope, so much to live for. That’s why she was a full code, she didn’t want to die. But still it had happened. Ailin didn’t know how God could let that happen.

Ailin had seen other patients die, other patients she had grown attached to, but she had never reacted like this before. Mr. Victor was concerned as he pulled Ailin into his arms, comforting the young woman.

“Darlin’ I know. It’s hard. But it’s happened before and it will keep happenin’. Natasha already told me somethin’s up. Everythin’ okay at home, sweetheart?” The older man looked down at the distraught LPN in his arms.

“I…I think I just need to rest.” She couldn’t tell anyone what she was feeling. 

If she did, she would have to explain to everyone who asked about their situation at home. They might villainize Noah or think less of him the way her mother sometimes would during their phone calls, and she didn’t want that.

She stifled a sob, swallowing it in her throat and forcing it down.

“There there, sweetheart.” Mr. Victor rubbed Ailin’s back, trying to soothe his crying subordinate.

It was moments like this, when Mr. Victor’s empathy was most prominent, that he reminded Ailin of her dad. A southern and taller version of her dad anyway.

“Darlin’ I think you oughta go home and get that rest. Then when you’re feelin’ back to your confident and bubbly self in a couple of days, you can come back.” Almost subconsciously, he kissed the top of her head the way he did to his own wife.

Ailin buried her face into his shirt, needing to feel enveloped in that nurturing warmth only a father could give.

“Thank you so much,” she finally said and detached herself from their embrace. “I’m sorry.”

“None of that, sweetheart. You just go on and feel better so we can get you back here soon.” He smiled.

She grabbed her things and left. He watched her walk down the empty hallway and out the employee door. After a moment, Mr. Victor cleared his throat—or was it a repressed groan? He smoothed out his scrub top and then adjusted his scrub bottoms before returning to work.

On the way home, Ailin flipped off her gym.

“Not today, hijo de tu puta madre.”

She kept changing the song, crying and frustrated that she couldn’t find any good ones right now. They were all too happy and dancy. She really needed to make a sad playlist. And when she finally did find one, she was already too close to home to enjoy it properly.

“Y volver volver—” the chorus was cut off as she parked in the driveway and shut off her car. 

She sat there, staring at the house. Usually, she was excited to be here, but today she was dreading it. 

Sighing, she got out of the car and dragged her feet.

Upon opening the door, she kicked off her shoes right there in the foyer, something she hated when Noah did. She would get them later, today she wasn’t going to worry about anything but herself. It’s not like they were expecting anyone to visit anyway.

Her mom was in Mexico and the rest of her family was in Arizona. Noah’s mom didn’t really visit even though she was only thirty minutes away and his dad lived in South Carolina near his sister.

So fuck cleaning the house or making food. She just needed to relax today. She went to the fridge and grabbed one of the pre-made protein shakes and a meal replacer, closing the door harder than she had meant to, making the contents of the door shelves rattle.

“Fuck.” Hopefully nothing had tipped over, but she’d worry about that later.

On her way to the bedroom, Ailin chugged the protein shake and then the meal replacer without even taking a breath, causing her to belch loudly. She knew she shouldn’t drink that kind of stuff, it was mostly Noah’s, but right now she needed something quick and easy.

She peeled off her bottoms. It was hard for her to find pants that both hugged her waist without smothering her wide hips and butt—unless she was willing to buy premium, which she had. And she was glad she did because these scrub pants were so flexible and soft. She threw the scrub set into her ‘scrubs only’ hamper.

After a stressful day, she usually liked to take a long shower. The scorching water always seemed to melt and wash her troubles away, if only momentarily. But not today. She wasn’t in the mood for the thoughts that would inevitably haunt her in one of her sacred places.

Instead she threw on her loosest, most comfortable workout set to watch tv. She didn’t care if she smelled like a care facility right now, she just wanted to feel better. So she went to ViX to watch her dad’s favorite show, Cero en conducta. It was something that had become a comfort the last few years because she could see her dad’s personality in Jorgito. She wondered if it would make her smile the way it usually did.

*

“Mmmm who got this tres leches cake? It’s literally the one I wanted. Did you get it for me, amor?” Ailin asked Noah.

“I think my dad did.” 

Her face scrunched up wearily at that and she raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“How does your dad know this is my favorite cake?” She looked at Noah while she dipped her fork back in for another bite.

But instead of the soft, wet texture of tres leches, her fork thudded against something hard. She looked down at the cake. In its place was a giant pregnancy test with an unmistakable plus sign. It took Ailin a second before she understood what it meant.

“Amor, I’m pregnant!” She turned around to look at Noah, but he was no longer there.

His seat was empty.

In the corner of her vision, she thought she could see him, so she looked in that direction. But it wasn’t Noah, it was their family. They were looking at her expectantly, their plastic, smiling faces lingering just below her own vision. So she looked down. To her utter shock, she was heavily pregnant, and in her hands she held a black balloon and a needle ready to pop it.

“Aren’t you going to pop it? Show us the gender!” her mother said.

Ailin started to cry, her mother was there. She hadn’t seen her in a decade. But then she saw a shadow in the corner of her eye that caused her to worry.

“Mamá, how are you here right now? You have to be careful! They are taking everyone!” But her mom ignored her.

“Go on! Show us!” her mother urged and Ailin felt obligated to comply.

Ailin popped the balloon, but instead of the blue or pink paper shavings she had been expecting, her mother was standing directly in front of her.

“Are you ready for the twins?”

“Twins?” Ailin looked down. 

She was holding two baby boys in her arms. They looked vaguely like Noah, but their faces were harsher than his. She looked up, panicked.

“Noah?!” Ailin’s voice cracked. 

She looked and looked for her husband, but he was nowhere to be found. His place next to her was empty while everything was moving too fast for her to even have the awareness to take a moment to think.

“Hey there pretty lady.”

Doesn’t he mean baby doll? That thought nearly short circuited the surge of hope Ailin felt at the sound of Noah’s voice. 

She turned in the direction of that voice, only she didn’t find Noah. Instead, it was Noah’s family. His mom was there with Noah’s half siblings. His father was there too, only he wasn’t alone the way he should have been. He was standing next to his late wife Madeline, only Madeline didn’t look like herself. 

She looked similar, but not quite. Something about her was much more familiar than it should have been—uncannily so. Her hair was supposed to be very wavy, almost curly, but instead it was straight. She was also more filled out than Ailin remembered, more curved and less edge. The Madeline she had met had been taller. Slender. More lanky than athletic.

Then Noah’s sister popped into her field of view.

“Hey where’s the last one?” she asked.

“The last one? What are you talking about?” Ailin didn’t understand what was going on, why this was happening so fast, or where the fuck Noah was.

“The triplet?” Amber scoffed. “You don’t know where your own baby is? I have five and I can still keep track.”

A triplet? Then out of the corner of her eyes, just at the edge of her vision, Ailin could see the outline of a man. She spun towards it.

“NOAH?” But there was nothing there.

“Hey don’t worry, I found her!” Reinhard, Noah’s father, said. 

He walked up to Ailin, bringing her her triplet. He kept trying to hand the baby to her and Ailin wanted to accept it, but she couldn’t. It would be wrong to try to hold the baby Reinhard was trying to give her when she could barely manage to hold the two already in her full arms. So instead, Reinhard stood next to her, allowing her to be close to the child she couldn’t hold.

BRRRINGG!

The phone was SO LOUD.

BRRRINGG!

She wanted to hand one of the babies to Noah so she could answer the phone, but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t even bothering to help by answering the phone himself.

“Let me help.” Reinhard took one of the babies from Ailin before she could respond, smiling at her. 

“Oh…okay. Thank you…” She smiled back politely—he was only trying to help her after all. 

It would be better for her if she let him, maybe she would even feel relieved. With one hand free now, she walked over to the phone.

BRRRINGG!

She picked it up.

“Noah?”

*

“Noah? It’s Aldo. You know, the brother you never call? Are you drunk or something?” Her brother asked in Spanish.

Slowly, the fog that obscured reality when dreaming lifted.

“Aldo?”

“Yes, what the fuck. Do you not have my number saved in your phone?” He could speak English, but he always got self-conscious because of his heavy accent.

Ailin groaned and stretched. “I was having the worst dream!”

“Your worst dreams involve Noah?” Aldo didn’t really ask, it was more like an accusation.

“Is that why you’re calling? Just to talk shit?”

“No! Of course not! Why are you always so defensive about everything?”

Ailin rolled her eyes and sat up, muting the tv. “I’m tired. What do you want?”

“I talked to mom.”

“Okay. And?”

“She told me blondie doesn’t want to have a baby with you.” Blondie was what Aldo and her father called Noah when he wasn’t around. 

He didn’t like that name.

Ailin didn’t think that was funny.

“Ach! Don’t call him that!” But when Aldo only laughed at her response, she realized that’s all he really wanted from her. 

“Fuck right off. What did she tell you?”

“She said you called her yesterday to complain that Noah doesn’t want to have kids with you. That you were crying and she had to calm you down.”

“What?! What a fuc—mrrrmm,” she groaned. 

Ailin had to breathe in deeply before she said something this chismoso ass snitch would take back to their mom.

“That’s not what I said.” Her tone had finality.

Why does she always have to do that? Ailin thought.

Both of these two were such instigators. Her mother always twisting her words and Aldo always poking the fucking bear. She missed them, she really did. But shit like this sometimes made her grateful for the distance. 

“Well that’s what she told me. Are you okay with that? With Noah not wanting kids with you? I thought you wanted a big family like the rest of us.” He jabbed her right in the heart.

Ailin’s shaky exhale let Aldo know he needed to chill out for an icy cold minute with his jabs.

“I didn’t say that.”

Why would she say that? Ailin thought. Her mom always struck her right in her insecurities.

“Is that what you all think of us? You all think he doesn’t even want to have a baby with me? I’ve already talked to mom about this several times.” 

“I don’t think that. I’m just asking.” Aldo cut in to speak before she could continue.

Fucking liar, she thought.

“You already know that you have to take everything she says with a mountain of salt, right?” Ailin started to rub her hands. 

Damn persistent stains.

“That’s exactly why I called you! You don’t have to get mad so easily. I was just asking.” Aldo acted like he didn’t start the call throwing accusations and only backtracked now that she was pissed.

“Baby doll! I’m home!” She heard Noah call from the kitchen.

Ailin would have audibly groaned if her brother wasn’t such a gossipy bitch. Tomorrow it would be her mom or one of her sisters calling to see if she and Noah were divorcing.

“Hey, Noah is home. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Tell him we are all waiting for you two to have—”

“Bye!” She hung up the phone before Aldo could piss her off more.

“Baby, can you come to the kitchen? I have something I need to talk to you about,” Noah called out to her again.

She groaned quietly, then took a deep—deeply frustrated—breath. “Coming, amor!”

Ailin rubbed her forehead, she couldn’t just relax today. Between Mary’s death, her family instigating drama, her concerns about Noah even wanting to be a father, and now even her dreams trying to stress her out, she really just needed someone else to take the wheel so she could relax in the passenger seat for a while. She needed to cede control to have a little rest.

**

“Tell me!” Ailin crossed her arms over her chest, making it hard for Noah to concentrate. 

In her loose sports bra, her cleavage peaked out deliciously.

“I want to, I just don’t want to get you too excited. I don’t want to get your hopes up and then if it doesn’t happen…”

“You can’t just tell me you have great news that might solve everything—your words by the way—then not tell me what it is.” She was right, he was teasing her. 

He regretted it though, he knew how impatient she was.

“You just have to promise me you aren’t going to get your hopes up until it actually happens—”

“Fine I promise, just tell me!”

Noah hesitated but her tone and the desperate look on her face pushed him to finally relent.

“Chief Calderon offered me the opportunity to move up to Lieutenant but—”

“Wait…” The desperation slowly drained.

He tried to suppress his smile but Ailin caught it before he could.

“Wait wait wait! Does that—?” She covered her mouth and her eyes welled with happy tears.

“Yeah…I mean, it does if I get the promotion!” He tried to clarify, but she was already in baby land.

“Amor, we need to start planning! We could turn the study into a playroom! The other room can be his—or her—room.” She stopped, looking at his face. She saw the hesitation in it. “Is…is it real? You aren’t just messing with me?” she asked. 

She really was trying to mitigate her excitement, she didn’t want to be disappointed. But she really, really needed this.

“No ma’am. I’m not messing with you, I just need to actually get the promotion first. I still need to take the written qualifier, pass it. And then there’s three interviews I need to get through…” He was trying to mitigate the expectations, but he could already see her hopes skyrocketing.

“Amor, no tienes—you have no idea how happy that makes me!” She started hopping up and down. “This morning when I woke up, I was so, so sad! I know, I know…I really couldn’t help it though. You know? But this, Dios mío, beibi. AHHH!” She squealed.

He was happy that she was happy. It’s something he always wanted for her: to be happy. She always told him she hadn’t had that many opportunities to be happy in her life until he came along. All he could feel was pride in being able to give her that happiness. 

But as he watched her, his thoughts started to take a dive into the gutter. He noticed her sports bra wasn’t keeping everything in place the way it should. It was more than just cleavage now: every time she jumped, her breasts threatened to jump out right along with her. He couldn’t stop staring even as she switched to a happy dance. 

Because a happy dance for her was a sensual dance to him. She couldn’t see how just her being so happy, moving around, swaying to a song he just couldn’t perceive was enthralling for him. And more than that, it was making him hard. 

Just as he was about to suggest they take this celebration to the room, she stopped. So he paused, waiting for her.

She had a look on her face that meant trouble for him. “¡Amor! I know what we should do to celebrate!”

“Get started on them babies?” He smiled wolfishly at her, but it was tainted by a hopeful plea that was obvious to her. 

Taking a step towards her, inching his arm around her lower back, he tried to pull her to him.

She smacked his arm. “¡Ayyy, no! Descarado! Your mind is always thinking dirty thoughts!” she scolded—even though that was also on her mind—but it was competing with her need to go out and have fun.

“Well baby, you jumping around like that, moving those sexy hips…what am I supposed to think about?” He eyed her up and down the same way a wolf eyes its prey, obliviously vulnerable.

Except this one wasn’t.

That look made her shiver, that look was new. Predatory. She felt herself moistening slightly. But if she gave in now, they would never go out. They were far too busy for that, it had to be tonight while she could still convince herself two or three hours of sleep would be enough for tomorrow. 

With mock-indignation on her face, she covered her sports bra and her shorts with her arms.

“Not yet! First, take me out to dance!” 

This wolf was far too green to have the confidence to take on this strong doe alone. It had noticed him, staring him down. Too much effort, too dangerous.

If Ailin hadn’t been so happy, Noah would have groaned out loud instead of internally. It’s not that he hated dancing, he just knew he wasn’t good at it.

“Alright, but after we go dancing, you're mine. We need to start mixing the cake batter and then put that cake to bake.” He put his hands on her exposed tummy and caressed the soft skin.

“Hmmm,” she sighed.

But his horniness was far too strong for him to muscle through, so he slowly slid his hand down her tummy to the edge of her gym shorts. His movements were slow, deliberately so, building her anticipation. His fingertips were as light as a feather, almost tickling her, making her tingle. Just as his fingertips slipped beneath the waistband, when the tingle became a strong quiver, she danced away, humming her denial. 

“Mm mmm,” she wagged her finger playfully at him, grinning—daring him to try again.

Was she trying to deny him or draw him out? Noah let out a weakly quick, frustrated groan.

“Not. Yet.” She saw the obvious arousal on his face begin to slowly recede as he tried to control himself. “Wait until we come back.” Her smile promised him he would be rewarded for his patience.

“Oh we are going to cum alright, but I won’t be doing it on your back.” He gladly took the carrot she dangled in his face.

“Cochino!” she called him a pig, but her smile and the twinkle in her eyes belied her mock, indignant disgust.

Thinking himself quick, still running on the confidence today had given him, he reached one final time. Just a quick grab of her sculpted ass. That’s all he would need to change her mind. But she knew him too well—anticipating him, she smacked his hand away.

“¡Ay, ya amor!” she whined, having enough of his advances. 

But her mischievous smile let him know he still had something to look forward to later.

Just not yet.

She couldn’t deny that her resilience to stall him out to get what she wanted before they had sex was starting to crumble, but he didn’t know that. She didn’t want him to know. And she was sure she could outlast him anyway. She looked down at his crotch. He was maybe at half his full potential, but she knew just how hard he could get. She licked her lips.

Did she really want to outlast him?

She could see the desire in his eyes, but he kept his hands to himself this time. A little disappointed he didn’t try harder, she huffed in a ‘suit yourself’ kind of way and turned away from him. She looked over her shoulder at him. Catching his eyes on her ass. 

An anxious flare flashed in his chest, his consciousness blinking.

“I’m going to go shower. Dress sexy, amor. I want everyone to know you’re getting fucked tonight.” Her body was so inviting, but her wicked glare fixed him in place. 

This was her world and he just lived in it.

“Yes, ma’am.”