The smell of dinner filled the kitchen, the soft light casting a warm glow over the room as you set the plates down on the table. Simon was on the floor with Rose, laughing softly as she reached out to grab his face, her tiny fingers pulling at his cheeks as he grinned and playfully pretended to bite her hand. It was moments like these that you cherished, those rare times he was home. But there was always that gnawing feeling, a quiet ache knowing he'd be leaving again soon.

"Dinner’s ready," you called, breaking the serene moment. Simon looked up, his eyes lighting up as he gently lifted Rose and carried her to her highchair, strapping her in and placing a small plate of cut-up spaghetti in front of her. She squealed happily, reaching for it immediately with messy little hands.

As you all settled in to eat, silence fell over the table, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Rose's babbles and the sound of her spoon clattering against the plate filled the quiet gaps, her face smeared with sauce as she explored each bite with wide-eyed curiosity.

After a moment, he spoke up, his voice casual yet sincere.

"So, how was your day?"