Olivia’s first date with Noah was huge, and she was a nervous wreck. In her dorm, she second-guessed her Goodwill top, her lip gloss, her smile. What if he thinks I’m dull? Noah was charming, from a solid family in Oak Park, while she was just a foster kid from the South Side. But at the Starbucks on Fullerton, his warm grin eased her fears.
“You look awesome,” Noah said, holding the door. Over iced mochas, they talked for hours—classes, music, dreams. Noah wasn’t arrogant like she’d feared. He loved classic rock, worked weekends at Portillo’s, and wanted to start a community center someday. Olivia shared her foster home stories, her love for math, her dream of being an accountant. By the time they left, they were laughing like old friends, stealing glances under the Chicago streetlights.
They walked along the Lincoln Park Lagoon, the city glowing around them. Noah took her hand, and when he kissed her under a streetlamp, Olivia’s heart soared. It was electric, like a movie scene. They fell fast, despite the doubters.
Campus gossip was harsh. Ava and Sophia rolled their eyes.
“She’s with Noah?” Sophia scoffed. “What’s he see in that nobody? Bet he’s done by fall.”
But Noah and Olivia didn’t care. They were glued together—study dates at DePaul’s library, late-night burritos at Taco Burrito King, kisses in the quad. Noah called her his “spark,” always brushing her hair back with a smile.
Noah’s parents, though, were a problem. They owned a chain of furniture stores in the suburbs and had big plans for him—high-flying job, perfect wife. When they heard about Olivia, they flipped. At their Oak Park estate, his mom, Linda, tore into him over dinner.
“Seriously, Noah?” she snapped, slamming her wine glass. “A foster girl? We’ve got a match—Sophie, the alderman’s daughter. She’s ideal. What’s Olivia got? Nothing!”
Noah’s jaw clenched. “Mom, I love her. That’s what she’s got. I don’t care about your plans. This is my life.”
His dad, Michael, stood, voice icy. “You’re tossing your future for some charity case? Fine. You’re cut off. No allowance, no car. Let’s see how long this ‘love’ lasts when you’re broke.”
Noah didn’t waver. “I’ll make it work. Olivia’s worth it.” He grabbed his jacket and left, leaving his parents stunned. Linda turned to Michael, voice shaking.
“You’re too harsh! What if he doesn’t come back?”
Michael shrugged. “He’ll crawl back when the money’s gone. Watch.”
But Noah was done with their control. He chose Olivia, no matter the cost.
Noah didn’t flinch after his parents cut him off. He packed a bag and left their Oak Park estate, moving into Olivia’s tiny South Side apartment on 79th Street. The place was rough—leaky pipes, a lumpy bed, walls so thin you heard neighbors’ arguments. But Noah didn’t mind. He was with Olivia, and that was enough. To pay bills, he took extra shifts at Portillo’s and started driving for Lyft, hustling to keep them going. Olivia, still at DePaul, worked part-time at the coffee shop, her scholarship covering tuition but little else.
They made it work. Noah came home tired, but Olivia’s smile lit him up. She’d make PB&J or instant ramen, and they’d eat on the floor, laughing over goofy stories. When Noah hugged her, whispering, “You’re my home, spark,” Olivia felt safe for the first time. They didn’t need much—just each other.
One cold November morning, Noah was due back from an overnight Lyft shift. Olivia hummed, stirring a pot of beef stew, his favorite, the savory scent filling their small kitchen. She checked her phone, waiting for his usual “Heading home” text. An hour passed. Then two. Her stomach knotted. He’s probably in traffic, she thought. Or chatting with a friend. But dread grew, tightening her chest.
When her phone rang, the unknown number made her heart race. A cold voice broke her world. “Ma’am, I’m sorry. Noah was in a car accident. He didn’t make it.” The room spun. Olivia’s knees gave out, and she collapsed, the phone falling. Everything went dark.
The days after were agony. Noah’s funeral at Graceland Cemetery was brutal—his mom, Linda, spotted Olivia and unleashed her rage.
“You!” she screamed, tears streaming. “You dragged him down, and now my son’s gone! Leave!”
Olivia stood frozen, too shattered to reply, tears falling silently. Linda’s words couldn’t hurt more than the void in her heart. Back at her apartment, Olivia went through the motions. She attended DePaul classes, stared blankly at books in the library, then locked herself away. Alone, she’d clutch Noah’s old jacket, breathing his fading pine scent, sobbing until her voice gave out.
“Why, God?” she’d cry, curled on the bed. “Why him? He was all I had!”
Every night, she waited for Noah’s grin, his “Hey, spark, I’m back.” But the silence was cruel. She couldn’t accept he was gone forever.
Grief swallowed Olivia. She barely ate, her clothes loose. Morning sickness hit, but she was too numb to notice at first. When she took a pregnancy test, the two lines stared back. Her heart leapt with joy and fear. A baby. Noah’s baby. It was a piece of him, a reason to live. But panic followed. How do I raise a kid alone? No money, no family, and school?
Desperate, Olivia swallowed her pride and went to Noah’s parents’ Oak Park estate. She stood at their pristine door, shaking, and poured out her heart. “I loved Noah,” she said, voice breaking. “I’m pregnant with his baby—your grandchild. I’m scared. I need help.”
Linda’s face twisted. “You little con!” she spat. “Trying to scam us with that story? That kid’s not Noah’s! You’re after our money!” Michael stood silent, arms crossed, as Linda slammed the door. Olivia stumbled away, tears falling, anger burning. They don’t want their grandkid? Fine. I’ll do it alone.
The next day, at a Planned Parenthood in the Loop, Olivia clutched a referral slip, hands trembling. She waited for the doctor, a kind older woman with silver hair. When Olivia mumbled her choice, the doctor sighed, setting her glasses down. “Sweetheart,” she said softly, “I’ve seen many in your spot. You’re young, scared, and life’s tough. But this baby’s real, alive, and loves you already. If you do this, you might regret it forever. You’re stronger than you know. Think it over.”
Tears filled Olivia’s eyes. She fled the room, mind racing. What kind of mom am I? I swore I’d never abandon my kid, and I’m about to give up? No. I’m not my mother. That night, she dreamed of Noah. He sat on her bed, brushing her hair. “You’ve got this, spark,” he whispered. “I’m here.” She woke gasping, alone, but sure. Noah’s words were a sign.
Olivia took a leave from DePaul and found work cleaning at the John Hancock Center, scrubbing floors for low pay. Her boss, a stern woman named Brenda, was harsh. “Missed a streak, Olivia! Pregnant or not, do better!” Olivia stayed quiet, saving every cent for the baby. At night, she’d rub her belly, smiling as the baby kicked. “We’ll make it, little one,” she’d whisper. Despite her tight budget, she still gave a dollar or two to the unhoused in the Lake Shore Drive underpass, their smiles warming her.
One day, she saw that quiet guy with the crutch again, his cap out for change. She gave him a Starbucks coffee and a bagel, plus a five. He blushed, muttering thanks, but trouble stirred. Other unhoused men pushed him, grabbing his cash. “You’re taking our spot!” one shouted. Then three guys in hoodies jumped in, kicking him. Olivia’s blood boiled. Pregnant or not, she charged in, swinging her bag. “Stop it! He’s a person, not your punching bag! I’m calling the cops!” The guys laughed but backed off, sneering, “Stay out of it, lady, or you’re next!” Olivia was livid at their cruelty.
Her heart raced as she faced the thugs. “He’s not your slave!” she shouted, voice shaking. “His life’s hard enough—leave him be!” The guy on the crutch, still curled up, looked at her with grateful eyes. The thugs laughed, spitting. “Wanna play hero, preggo? Take your crippled friend. But it’ll cost you—ten grand!” They walked off, leaving Olivia fuming.
She knelt beside him, offering a tissue for his bloody lip. “Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s get you a burger at Shake Shack. You got hit hard.” His eyes softened, but he shook his head. “Thanks, but I can’t leave. They’ll come back.” Olivia frowned, stung by his refusal. I’m trying to help, and he shuts me down? She walked away, muttering.
Jimmy “Patch,” a regular, caught up. “You’re something, girl,” he chuckled. “Not scared of anyone. But that new guy? He’s strange. Doesn’t talk, doesn’t share. We don’t even know his name. Like he’s hiding something.” Olivia nodded, but her mind was racing. Those blue eyes, that shy smile—she couldn’t shake them. All day, she replayed it, her heart fluttering. Get a grip, Olivia. You’re pregnant, and he’s homeless. This is nuts.
The next morning, jogging through the underpass, her pulse quickened as she looked for him. There he was, leaning on his crutch. Before she could speak, he held out a single daisy. “Was waiting for you,” he mumbled, blushing. “Thought you might not come back. This is for you.” Olivia’s cheeks warmed, her fingers brushing his as she took the flower. “Wow, thanks,” she said softly.
Their mornings became a routine. She’d bring him a Starbucks coffee, and they’d chat—about the weather, the city, small stuff. He stayed guarded, but his warm gaze made her weak. It reminded her of Noah, like she was the only one in the world. Olivia hated how much she loved these moments. I’m pregnant with Noah’s baby. Falling for a homeless guy? What’s wrong with me?
But her heart ignored her. Each day, her steps were lighter nearing the underpass. One morning, he wasn’t there. Her stomach sank. She scanned the crowd, tears prickling. He’s gone? Just like that? Her day dragged, the world dull. On her way home, she stopped at Wabash Avenue. Chicago PD’s Narcotics Unit had three thugs in cuffs, and leading the bust was a tall, clean-cut cop—blond, no crutch, no curls. But those blue eyes? It was him.
He saw her and jogged over, sheepish. “Hey, sorry for the disguise. I’m Liam, undercover cop. Couldn’t tell you—it was the job. You mad?” Olivia stared, speechless. He grinned. “Meet me tomorrow at the underpass. Coffee’s on me. We need to talk.” Olivia’s face lit up, and she nodded, heart soaring.