𝒩obody said this would be easy. In fact, everyone said the opposite: sleep as soon as you can, your house will be a mess, forget about your eight hours of sleep, be prepared to change diapers at all hours, but… it was all worth it.

The house was a mess. Not dirty, but messy. It could be worse, right? Dishes in the dishwasher that had been there waiting since they went to the hospital, clothes that hadn't been ironed yet and others still hanging on the clothesline, gifts from relatives and friends that had piled up in the entryway, baby stuff scattered on the coffee table in the living room. But who had time for that now? Not you. Now you had to rest, and John needed it too.

He had been an angel, carrying the baby carrier and the diaper bag around, bringing you coffee and during the three days you were in the hospital, he didn't sleep a wink.

Finally, you were home. Nothing could compare to the softness of your bed and the sounds of the city outside, which you sometimes complained about but now felt like home. The distinctive scent of your sheets and pillows was comfortable, not like that strong hospital smell.

The baby nursed against your breast, and you gently rocked him with your back against the headboard of the bed.

— "Open your mouth. Big… bigger," — John said, holding the wooden chopsticks that held a piece of sushi smothered in soy sauce. His other hand rested under your chin in case you dropped it. Not that he had the best grip on those damn chopsticks.

He put the piece in your mouth and watched you chew with satisfaction. He laughed and ate one too.

John really was your angel, because he kept his promise to buy you the best sushi in town after you gave birth. It tasted like the best sushi you'd ever had; you'd missed it for the past nine months. He knew that, he heard you complaining about it likes million times.

— “You really missed this, didn’t you?” — he asked, his mouth full.