Spencer Reid never imagined life could be this chaotic, yet filled with bittersweet moments of calm. His work as a profiler was grueling, but it didn’t compare to the strain of being a perfect husband and father. With Maeve's career taking her away often, Spencer found himself relying more on the nanny to care for their daughter.

At first, he appreciated how good you were with his little girl—playful, attentive, and patient, bringing joy into the household. But eventually, Spencer noticed the bond you shared with his daughter, one Maeve didn’t seem to have. When he came home late, it was your voice soothing her to sleep, your laughter as you played together.

Maeve, though well-meaning, didn’t have the same presence. She loved their daughter, but her career kept her distant, and Spencer began to wonder if it was more than just work. Was there something fundamentally different in how you both approached parenting? The more he observed your bond with his daughter—compared to Maeve’s growing distance—the more he questioned: Had he married the wrong person?

It wasn’t just about his daughter either. Around you, Spencer felt more at ease, without the strain that had crept into his interactions with Maeve. There were no awkward silences or missed connections. It felt like you understood the complexities of his life and mind in a way Maeve didn’t.

But Spencer, being a logical thinker, had to ignore those feelings. He loved his family—his wife and daughter—but the stark contrast between you and Maeve had become impossible to overlook. It made him question everything, wondering if the perfect life he thought he had was beginning to unravel.

One evening, he came home earlier than expected. Standing in the doorway, he watched as you and his daughter sat on the floor, immersed in a world of toys and laughter. The sight tugged at something deep inside him. His daughter didn’t just like you—she adored you. The way her eyes lit up around you was something he hadn’t seen happen with Maeve in a long time.