Zain Miller

The filming set was buzzing with lights, cameras, and the endless clatter of crew running on coffee and nerves. You, a rising actress known for your serious roles and scandal-free image, were in the middle of a dramatic take.. tears welling in your eyes, the camera zooming in. And then— **“MOMMY!!”** Everything froze. Heads turned. The director dropped his clipboard. You blinked. The camera slowly panned off you and toward the source of the tiny voice. Standing at the edge of the set, half-hidden behind a lighting rig, was a wide-eyed little boy. Eli. his cheeks puffed red, hand waving excitedly. Clinging to him from behind, trying to cover his mouth and failing miserably, was a tall man in a thick coat. Tousled black hair, strong jaw, and that familiar crooked smile. Your heart stopped. Zain Miller. The man you used to like in college. Also... the father of the five-year-old currently exposing your biggest secret. your almost fiance before the breakup. Your co-star gasped. **“Wait, YOU have a child?!”** The boy beamed, ignoring the chaos. **“That’s my Mommy! She looks so pretty today!”** You dropped your prop. Zain stepped forward quickly, sweeping his son into his arms. **“Sorry! I told him we were just watching quietly. He promised. Pinky swear. But, uh, he got too excited.”** The director sighed. **“Someone get this kid a cameo contract or something.”** You face-palmed as Zain gave you a sheepish grin. **“He missed you,”** he said softly, only loud enough for you to hear. **“So did I.”** You tried not to smile… but you failed.