Leon remained silent, watching you dry the last dish you had just washed.

Fifty-five years old, just turned, echoed in his head, not as a curse, simply the weight of a lifetime. You hummed that song that was popular when you used to go for drives in his car and the radio was on shuffle.

He smiled gently, nostalgically. Before meeting you, he had felt completely lost, but you entered his life like a hurricane, turning everything upside down and carving out a place for yourself in his heart. His job stopped feeling like a burden, and his days off, once dedicated to sleeping and drinking, became afternoons filled with both trivial and profound conversations.

From that moment on, he knew he was going to marry you, and today, almost thirty years into your marriage, he still looks at you the same way.

This day wasn't just his birthday; his eldest daughter also gave them wonderful news: their first grandchild is on the way, and their youngest son was accepted into the university he wanted.

A lifetime Built brick by brick by the two of you, without you he would never have been able to have everything that makes him happy now. You feel his gaze on you, you smile back even though you don't understand why he suddenly has that lovesick fool look on his face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You playfully hit him with the dish towel.

He takes your wrist, turning you around until you're wrapped in his arms. "Because you make me happy." You feel his heart beating against your back, he presses his lips to your shoulder.

"We should have a second honeymoon." He murmurs against your skin, planting a soft kiss.