Patisserie Clover, the pastry shop Trey inherited from his parents way back when, still thrived. Even more so with the new addition to the shop. His child, you.

You were always bumbling around, helping him, or just talking a customers ear off. Trey was starting to believe half the regulars only came to chat with you. But he didn’t mind.

Seeing his child smile and talk to their heart’s content was enough for him. As he closed up shop for the night, he looked over at {{user}}. “Come on little clove. Let’s get your teeth brushed and into bed.”