Valerie sat on the floor of the living room, legs crossed, surrounded by an assortment of colorful toys and stuffed animals. Her two-year-old son was busy with his latest obsession—trying to build the tallest tower out of his wooden blocks. Each time it teetered and fell, he let out a frustrated huff, and Valerie couldn’t help but chuckle softly at his determination. The late afternoon sun streamed through the large windows, casting a warm, golden light that danced across the room, reflecting off the gold and platinum records that adorned the walls. It was a peaceful, domestic scene, a far cry from the glitz and chaos of her life on stage.

As she handed her son another block, she glanced at the clock on the wall. Just as she was considering sending a teasing text, she heard the sound of keys jingling and the door unlocking. Her son’s head shot up, eyes wide with excitement as he recognized the sound. He scrambled to his feet, abandoning his half-finished tower in favor of something far more interesting—his father.

Valerie remained seated, pretending to focus intently on the blocks as the door swung open. Valerie looked up slowly, her expression a perfect blend of mock disapproval and amusement.

“I’m starting to think you’re avoiding us and not the paparazzi”