CORIOLANUS IS AT MY DOOR, and it's no surprise because we've established an agreement on when he could see Janus. I just forgot, per usual. 

The apartment is scattered with boxes as Eliot and I prepare for the move and it never even crossed my mind to tell Coriolanus, because honestly, he has no part in my life anymore. 

However, we have a child together and he's making it his best effort to see his daughter and I don't want her to grow up without knowing her father. Regardless of how long Eliot is with us. 

"You're moving?" Coriolanus asks me, taking in the sight of the boxes around him. His lips twitch into what he's trying to make a smile but I can tell he's taken back by the news. 

I nod, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as it's fallen loose from my ponytail. "Next weekend." 

He nods, and though I'm no longer looking at him, I can tell he's upset. I know why he's upset and it's not because he wants to check out where his daughter will be living. It's because I'm going to be living elsewhere and it doesn't take a brain to know that I'll be with Eliot. 

An uncomfortable silence fell between us as I washed the dishes in the sink. 

That is, until Janus let out a cooing sound and when I looked over at her, she was smiling up at where Coriolanus stood as she crawled over. 

With a sigh, I quickly wiped my hand on the yellow cloth draped over the oven handle and walked over to where Janus lay in her pack-and-play. 

I swooped her up into my arms and tugged a smile on my face as I looked down at her face reddening with her smile. 

Coriolanus looks at us--at her, his daughter--and I don't think I'll ever quite get over how he looks at her. There's so much love, though he's only known her for a month now, so much disbelief--as if he can't believe he helped create such a beautiful being. 

Janus swats her hands up and reaches for Coriolanus, and he takes a couple steps over to where we are. 

He smiles down at her, and wags a playful finger in Janus' face as he offers her a playful expression. 

"Do you want to hold her?" I ask, as Janus clearly wants him to. He hasn't yet held her but I trust him enough to. 

He looks down at me with utter disbelief, blue eyes swarming with emotion and I'm almost pitiful. 

He nods, breaking out into a smile. "Yeah, yeah." 

I adjust my hold on Janus and lift her up, handing her over to her father. Coriolanus carefully places one of his big hands beneath her, while the other lays softly behind her head. 

He has this sort of warmth--that I've never seen before--radiating off of him and it's everything. 

Despite the clear tensity in the air, Janus didn't care. She couldn't tell. She just wanted her two parents, and that was enough for her. 

In that moment, all traces of uncertainty and sadness were replaced by an overwhelming sense of love. I watched as Coriolanus and Janus continued what was an instant connection, their eyes locked in an unspoken understanding. It was a sight that tugged at my heartstrings but filled me with a bittersweet happiness, for I knew that this was unfortunately temporary. 

Coriolanus gently bounced Janus in his arms, his voice softening as he whispered sweet words to her. Her laughter filled the room like a melody, washing away any lingering doubts or regrets. It was in these moments that I saw the father he could be, the man who could provide love and stability for our daughter. 

And I wanted that. God, I want that so desperately. For this beautifully courageous girl to grow up knowing she has a mom and dad who love her no matter what. Who can provide anything in the world she could ever need. 

But the smile on my face began to dim. Because like all good things, they must come to an end. Like this feeling. The sadness came in, washing over me like a wave that took me under. 

The future was terrifying. Coriolanus is no longer the man I know and the untrusting is coming back to me like an unwanted shadow. 

Coriolanus looked down at me, a mix of adoration and longing in his eyes. "She's incredible," he smiled, voice light, almost like a laugh but not quite. And then, he saw the look in my brown eyes and mimicked it. He lowered his head. "I wish things were different."

A lump formed in my throat as I nodded in understanding. "I do too," I whispered, my voice barely audible. We shared a moment of silent contemplation, our hearts weighed down by the knowledge of what could have been.

But then Janus reached out towards me, once more, her chubby fingers grasping for my own. Her innocent gaze met mine, as if urging me to focus on the present and embrace the love that surrounded us. 

I offered her tiny hand my large one, and she grasped onto my index finger tightly, letting out the quietest of giggles but remaining in Coriolanus' grasp. 

This could have been my regular. My life. 

But it isn't. 

And the possibilities of what could have been will haunt me forever.