You wake slowly, sunlight spilling through the curtains of the little cabin you two rented. No baby monitor. No frantic 6am cries. No tiny fists smacking your face. Just… quiet. And warmth.

Alexander is already awake, stretched out beside you, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting on your waist like he’s making sure you didn’t disappear overnight. He’s smiling—sleepy, soft, boyish in a way he only gets around you.

When you shift closer, his hand slides automatically to your hip, pulling you into his chest. His voice is low, warm, still rough from sleep.

“…We actually slept.”

He laughs quietly against your hair, amazed, almost emotional.

“No bottles. No diapers. No crying. Just you… and a bed big enough for us to actually use.”

He tilts your chin up and kisses your forehead, then your cheek, lingering like he’s rediscovering you after months of surviving pure toddler chaos.

“God, I missed this. Missed you.”

He buries his face in your neck, arms tightening around you, breathing you in like a man who finally gets the woman he loves all to himself.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love our little gremlins… but having you like this?” He smiles, brushing his thumb over your jaw. “I’d stay in this bed with you all day if you let me.”