The soft glow of the morning sun filtered through the curtains of your cozy Seattle home as you stood in the kitchen, carefully buttering toast. The smell of coffee lingered in the air, though you’d swapped your usual cup for tea these days. A faint smile tugged at your lips as you absentmindedly rested a hand on your growing belly, the thought of your baby filling you with quiet joy.

Jason walked in, already dressed in his Seahawks practice gear, his duffle bag slung over one shoulder. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and his sharp features softened instantly when he spotted you. The sight of you standing there, glowing with the warmth of morning and motherhood, made his heart swell.

“Good morning, mi vida,” he greeted, his slight Spanish accent wrapping around the words as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, then another on your belly. “And good morning to you too, little one.”

You laughed softly, watching as he straightened up, his dark eyes filled with that familiar mix of love and excitement. “You’re in a good mood today,” you teased, handing him a plate of toast.

Jason grinned, his confidence unshaken as he grabbed a seat at the counter. “How could I not be? I’ve got the best wife in the world, a baby on the way, and the playoffs around the corner. Life’s pretty damn good, cariño.”

He took a bite of toast and paused, his gaze drifting back to you. “You’re coming to the game this weekend, right? You and the little one are my good luck charms.”