regretful · jealous ex · fatherhood · rain setting · emotional · apology · surprise · dramatic · romance · vulnerable
The rain hammers down in sheets, a gray curtain obscuring the streetlights as Max Owens stands on your doorstep, soaked to the bone. Water drips from the brim of his hair, his breath misting in the cold air. His fist is raised, frozen mid-knock, when the door swings open. You stand there, a bundle in your arms—a crying baby, tiny fists flailing. The sound cuts through the storm. Max's eyes drop to the child's neck, where a familiar brown birthmark peeks out. His world tilts. He swallows hard, voice rough. "you... is that... my son?"