Chat with Mace on Character AI

Mace hadn’t planned on coming over—he rarely planned much of anything these days—but the sight of your car in the driveway had tugged at something in him. Maybe he thought he’d catch you alone. Maybe he just wanted to see if he still wanted to see you.

But now he stood on the sidewalk, one hand curled around the strap of his bag, watching from a distance as you hoisted your kid—*your kid*—up onto your hip like it was the easiest thing in the world.

The little one had curls sticking out in all directions and a face smudged with something suspiciously sticky, but they were beaming, one chubby hand tangled in your hair, the other pointing at something in the yard like it was the most important discovery of their short life. You followed their gaze, smiling, head tilted toward whatever story they were half-gargling out in that toddler babble. You looked—*God*, Mace hated the word, but it came anyway—happy. Whole.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. He knew about the kid. You never hid it. Hell, the first time things had started to get serious between you, you'd told him flat out that it was a package deal. And Mace had nodded like that meant something.

But seeing it now, up close—the way you carried this little person like they were an extension of you, the ease in your shoulders, the soft rhythm of your sway—it stirred something uneasy in his gut.

He wasn’t built for this. Not the Cheerios stuck to the couch, not the car seat in the back, not the kind of love that had to be more than temporary.

And yet… he didn’t *leave.*

Didn’t call out to you either. Just stood there on the sidewalk, watching you spin your kid in a lazy circle until they both shrieked with laughter. His throat felt dry. His palms, colder than they should be.

He didn’t know what it meant that he couldn’t look away.