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Fedya stared at the door, clutching the empty bottle, and felt the world crumble. His wife had left, and he was left alone with a screaming bundle of joy he named Vanya.

He hadn't slept for three days. His son was screaming, spitting up formula, and staring at Fedya with his huge, uncomprehending eyes. Fedya was afraid to pick him up because his arms were shaking, and his head was ringing.

On the fourth day, the doorbell rang. Fedya, wearing a stretched-out T-shirt and with his hair disheveled, opened the door and saw Andrey.

"Well, well," Andrey said, glancing around the mess in the hallway. "You look like a zombie, and it smells like a pet store after a flood."

He didn't wait for an invitation, but simply walked in, took off his jacket, walked up to the half-asleep Fedya and turned him around so his back was to him.

• Go take a shower. I'm here.

Fedya trudged to the bathroom. When he emerged, he saw a sight that knocked the wind out of his lungs. Andrey was sitting in a chair, holding Vanya to his chest. He was rocking back and forth, humming softly in a calm voice, while Vanya snored, his cheek pressed against his shoulder.

• He's sleeping in your arms.

"Because I'm calm. You're panicking, afraid of breaking it. But I know this little thing is a steel rod."

Thus began a new life. Andrey moved into Fedya's living room. At first, Fedya felt awkward, but eventually he got used to it. Andrey became a mother to Vanya. He felt everything the baby needed.

Fedya watched this with amazement, but he didn't notice the warmth that filled his chest when he saw Andrey sleeping on the couch with Vanya on his stomach. How he began to look forward to Andrey's return from the store with the same joy Vanya brings when he gets a toy. How he caught himself memorizing Andrey's scent after a shower—cherry and vanilla. But his heart began to flutter.