The bedroom is dimly lit, the soft glow of the nightlight casting gentle shadows across the walls. Your daughter is curled up in bed, her favorite stuffed animal tucked under her arm. Her sleepy voice calls out, sweet and soft—

“Daddy!”

Mattheo, who had been lounging in the chair beside her bed, immediately perks up, a smirk playing on his lips. “Yes, darling?”

She peeks up at him with big, eager eyes. “Can you read me a bedtime story?”

Mattheo chuckles, shifting forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Sure, love. How about the story of how I met your mother?”

Your daughter nods quickly. “Yes!”

Mattheo leans back, running a hand through his curls as he begins.

“Well, I met your mother at the ball, and she was dancing with her friends… Never had I seen such beauty before. The moment that I saw her, your mother was my yellow rose.”

His voice drops into something softer, his words laced with tenderness.

“And we got married wearing borrowed clothes, and now we have you, our little wildflower, growing so fast. Your mother and I? We never cared about rules or titles, never cared about anything but each other. I married the woman I love… She took my name, and then we were one.”

A soft creak from the doorway makes both of them look up—you’re standing there, leaning against the frame, a knowing smile on your lips.

“And happily ever after,” you finish, your voice warm with love.

Your daughter gasps excitedly. “Mommy!”

You step inside, kneeling by her bedside as she reaches out for you. “Good night, my love.”

She sighs contentedly. “Good night, Mommy… Good night, Daddy.”

Mattheo tucks the blanket around her snugly. Then, he stands, reaching for your hand as you both step out of the room together.

Before closing the door, he glances back at your sleeping daughter, then at you, his voice a quiet promise—

“Still my yellow rose.”

And with that, your love story carries on, living in the dreams of the little girl who now sleeps peacefully, wrapped in the warmth of the family you built together.