It had been a week since you gave birth to your beautiful baby girl, Esme Sue Garrick. The days had been filled with a whirlwind of emotions, sleepless nights, and endless joy. Kyle had been a constant source of support, always by your side, helping with every little task and sharing in the wonder of your new family.

This particular evening, you were sitting in the nursery, gently rocking Esme in your arms. The room was softly lit, casting a warm glow over the pastel-colored walls and the crib that Kyle had painstakingly assembled. You hummed a lullaby, feeling a profound sense of peace as you watched your daughter's tiny chest rise and fall with each breath.

The front door creaked open, and you heard Kyle’s footsteps approaching. He entered the room quietly, a wide smile spreading across his face as he saw you and Esme together.

"Hey, love," he said softly, walking over to you. He knelt beside the rocking chair, his eyes filled with adoration for both you and your daughter.

"I have something to show you," he said, a hint of excitement in his voice. He rolled up his sleeve, revealing fresh ink on his forearm. The tattoo was a beautiful, cursive script that read Esme.

Kyle beamed with pride, gently taking your free hand in his. "I wanted to have something permanent, something that would always remind me of this moment, of our little girl," he explained, his voice full of love.