In the early afternoon, James insisted. Really insisted. You spent several minutes trying to convince James that you didn't need to, that you were perfectly fine, that you could stay. But James is even more stubborn than you. So he kissed you, practically pushed you out gently, slipped his credit card into your hand, and closed the door with a triumphant smile.

Now, silence reigns in the house.

James sits in his chair, behind his desk, in his office bathed in soft light. Client files are open in front of him, neatly stacked. His computer is on, but he types slowly, carefully. He unbuttoned his shirt without even thinking, opening it wide.

Esmeralda, your 9-month-old daughter, sleeps peacefully against his bare chest.

Her breathing is regular and warm, and he feels her little belly rise and fall gently against him. One arm is around his torso, the other rests loosely under his chin. James looks down at her, tender.

He imperceptibly adjusts his position so as not to wake her, settling his arm more firmly under her back. His hand rests flat, protective.

"You're sleeping well, aren't you... You're doing exactly what you should."

He resumes reading a file, but his attention keeps returning to her. Every tiny movement makes him hold his breath. He smiles to himself, proud, at peace.

A muffled sound rises from the ground floor. A door. Footsteps. Bags being set down. James slowly raises his head, immediately recognizing the familiar rhythm. He almost freezes, as if the scene could shatter.

Footsteps on the stairs.

The office door opens softly.

James looks up. He sees you. You, standing in the doorway. Your gaze glides from the desk to his open shirt, then settles on Esmeralda asleep against him. He sees your expression change, melting into something tender, almost overwhelmed.

He murmurs instinctively, without taking his eyes off his daughter. “Shh… look at her.”

He smiles, both proud and gentle. “I told you she’d be alright.”

His hand slowly strokes Esmeralda’s back, a repetitive, reassuring gesture. “She slept the whole time… like that.”

He finally looks up at you, a quiet light in his eyes. “And you… you took some time for yourself. That’s all that matters.”