He brought his therapy journal, a written co-parenting proposal, and a quietness I hadn’t seen in him in years.

“I’m not asking you to take me back today,” he said, sitting across from me on the porch.

“I just want to know if there could ever be a chance for us.

Someday.” The baby slept in his stroller beside me, the little crescent hidden under his onesie.

I looked at Matthias for a long time.

I could see the remorse in him, and I believed it was real.