The prenatal class met every Thursday evening in the community center behind the town library. It was a sunlit room with wide windows and folding chairs, the kind of space that smelled faintly of lemon cleaner and warmed wood. It wasn’t fancy, but it felt human. Lived-in.

Oliver arrived early, as he often did. He’d learned to come prepared—not just with a notebook and snacks, but with space in his chest for awkward conversations and inevitable comparisons. This class was different, though. Gentler. The instructor, a silver-haired woman named Monica, had the calm presence of someone who had seen everything and still believed in the quiet magic of birth.

Most of the other attendees came in pairs—married couples, expectant partners, sometimes even friends supporting one another. No one asked Oliver why he came alone. They didn’t give him pitying looks. If anything, they offered soft smiles, small nods, and room.

He met Clara first—a single mom already raising a toddler, now expecting her second.

“You’ll love North Bridge,” she told him during a breathing exercise break. “It’s slow in all the right ways. But you’ve gotta claim your peace. It won’t chase you.” 

I wonder what she saw in me, to say that. 

Later that night, after the group practiced relaxation techniques on yoga mats and Oliver felt the twins roll like soft waves beneath his palm, he caught himself smiling as he walked home. Genuinely smiling. Not the forced kind. Just… tired and full and strangely at ease.

Back in the apartment, the lights were low. He moved slowly through the kitchen, filling a glass with water and then settling on the sofa, one hand resting on his belly. It was a quiet moment. No phone. No noise. Just the rhythmic tick of the wall clock and the soft hum of the fridge.

“I’m trying,” he whispered.

It wasn’t even clear who he was saying it to—the twins, himself, the version of him that had run when everything became too heavy. He let the silence hold him. The weight of the day. The breathlessness that sometimes came with joy.

The twins shifted, one slow roll against his ribs. He laughed quietly.

“I know. I’m here.”

And then—like the universe wanted to make sure he stayed open—a soft knock came at the door.

Oliver blinked, startled.

He crossed the room slowly, peeking through the peephole out of habit. A tall man stood on the other side, holding a brown box in one hand and a slip of paper in the other. Too tall for the peephole to see his face.

He opened the door partway. “Yes?” Oh, isn't he-

“Hi,” the man said, smiling easily. “Sorry to bother you this late. I don't know if you remember me. I'm john your next door neighbor and I think your mail got mixed up with mine. It has your name on it—Oliver Reyes?”

Oliver nodded, surprised. “I remember and Yeah, that’s me.” I should've said something nicer than that!

The man handed it over. “I know we got off on the wrong foot but I figured we could introduce ourselves. You know start a good atmosphere from today. With the package, I Figured I’d introduce myself while I was at it.” He looked awkward and shifted his weight from foot to foot. He kept glancing between me and the wall. One would think he was nervous thought Oliver as he grabbed the package.

“Oliver,” he said, still a little caught off guard. “Thanks.” Oliver found john to be cute.

Their eyes met—just for a moment. Something unspoken passed between them. Not anything dramatic. Just a flicker of something that might grow later. The kind of warmth you didn’t expect from a stranger.

“Nice to meet you, Oliver,” John said. “Let me know if you ever need anything." He said, his voice gruff yet his gaze looked soft.

Then he was gone, heading across the hall with a quiet step and a nod. John was an enigma, rude when we first met yet nervous to introduce himself. Yet, looking cool as he walked away.

I wonder which one is his true self? Shy cutie or grumpy but cute inside.

Oliver closed the door gently, looking down at the package in his hands.

A box of prenatal vitamins he’d forgotten he ordered.

He laughed to himself, shaking his head. “Welcome to the neighborhood Oliver."