A soft glow interrupted the darkness of the room where Simon was temporarily staying in, during his long-term deployment. In that lonely moment, he found himself vulnerable, staring at the screen of his laptop, waiting anxiously for your video call.

His face spoke tiredness, days of sleepless nights on constant alert, nervousness, tension — because he had left his pregnant wife back at home for duty, near the final months of your pregnancy.

Just as he heaved out a sigh, running his hands on his face in frustration, the ringing of an incoming call ricocheted in the small room, making him jump and take the call almost immediately. You sat on the other side of the screen, his angelic wife, a bundle cradled in your arms safely.

The environment around you didn’t seem like sweet home, you were still at the hospital, alone, hours after giving life to his precious child. Your eyes held back tears that hadn’t fully formed, slowly, you angled the camera towards your arms, and there he saw it.

Barely the size of your forearm, wrapped in a beige blanket with only a tiniest face peeking through. Little Riley, a mix of your features and his sharp ones.

Silence hung heavily for a moment, Simon was staring at the tiny life as he tried catching his breath, barely visible tears forming in the corner of his tired eyes. Instinctively, he brought his fingers against the screen of the laptop as if he could somehow reach through, could touch his child. “Hey, little one.” He spoke, his voice low as a whisper, scared to wake tiny Riley up.