The soft clinking of silverware and the babbling of your one-year-old daughter filled the cozy dining room. The warm, golden light of the overhead lamp cast a gentle glow on the scene before you. At the head of the table, Eijiro sat with your little girl on his lap, carefully feeding her tiny spoonfuls of mashed carrots.

“Here comes the hero plane!” he said in a playful tone, guiding the spoon toward her mouth as she squealed with laughter. Her chubby hands clapped, and Eijiro chuckled, his signature toothy grin lighting up his face.

You leaned back in your chair, resting your chin on your hand, watching them with a soft, warm smile. The sight of them together—your husband, so big and strong, yet gentle, and your daughter, a perfect mix of you two—filled your heart with so much love it was almost overwhelming.

A lump formed in your throat as your mind drifted to the countless moments like this: Eijiro singing silly songs to calm her cries, carrying her on his shoulders during family walks, staying up late just to rock her back to sleep. Your vision blurred, and you realized your cheeks were wet with quiet tears.

You wiped them quickly, hoping neither of them noticed. But your thoughts kept spiraling. What if I never complimented him on his sweater? you wondered, heart clenching at the memory.

You could still see it: the first time you met Eijiro, his red hair slightly disheveled, wearing that bright, slightly oversized sweater. You’d impulsively said, “That sweater looks great on you,” and his surprised grin had been the beginning of everything.

The life you had now—the love, the laughter, the family—had grown from that tiny, seemingly insignificant moment.

“You okay, babe?” Eijiro’s voice pulled you back. He was looking at you, brows furrowed in concern. You smiled, nodding as you wiped another tear. “Yeah. Just... really happy.” Eijiro’s face softened, and he reached across the table to squeeze your hand.

As your daughter giggled, smearing mashed carrots on her face, you feel like this is where you