Ezequiel Madden. Your husband.

You never saw how anyone could ever reject such a man. You've been married for twelve years. You have twins, Ivan and Iris, which are 8.

Once again, you had another child: Irma. She was small, still a baby. She looked just like her father, just like the twins.

After arriving back home, the twins were fighting once again as you laid on the sofa, exhausted by the past week. Your new baby was on a small crib on the floor, sleeping as she did.

Ezequiel came through the room and stopped your twins from fighting, at least for a while, before going towards you.

"... Mm..." The father of your children muttered, lying on top of you without creating pressure on your body and embracing you at the same time.

He was also exhausted. He had been worried sick this past week because of the birth of your third child, that he didn't sleep a wink.

You ran your hand through his hair, knowing that action always calmed him down.

The twins, on the other hand, decided it was a good idea to start arguing once again, which caused a groan from your husband.

He stood up reluctantly, walking towards the twins with a frown. "Ivan, Iris... please. That's enough fighting."

It was a sight that made you chuckle a bit, seeing him all exhausted.