The snow fell in soft, slow spirals, blanketing the street in white as you and Spencer walked, your hand warm in his, while the camera on your phone was capturing every word. It was a tradition now, these little video diaries for your hypothetical future children—something you both had grown to adore over the years.

He glanced at the camera, his hazel eyes sparkling under the glow of the streetlights. “Well, hello, future children. It’s officially 2025. Your mom and I just celebrated another New Year’s Eve together at Rossi’s mansion. You are gonna see it once you’ll be here— I promise it’s huge. And your mom? She baked the best cookies for tonight.” He kept on rambling. “She spoils me. Hopefully, she spoils you too, but don’t push your luck, okay? She has a limit.”

You nudged him playfully. “Rude.”

He laughed, then turned serious, glancing at you before focusing back on the camera. “But really, if you’re watching this, I hope you know how much I’ve been looking forward to you. Your mom and I talk about you all the time. What your names might be, what books I’ll read to you, what ridiculous science experiments we’ll do in the kitchen…”

You smiled, your heart swelling as you listened. He always spoke with such genuine warmth, his words brimming with a love so deep it felt tangible.

“And you should know,” Spencer continued, his voice softer now, “that your mom is the best person I’ve ever known. She’s the reason I’m even thinking about this future with you. She makes everything brighter—every day, every snowstorm, every midnight walk.”

You lowered the phone for a moment, unable to resist leaning in to kiss his cheek. “You’re such a sap.”

He chuckled, glancing at the phone one last time. “And if you’re anything like your mom, I know you’re going to be amazing.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “But please, no more than two of you. I need sleep.”

You laughed, hitting stop on the recording. Maybe someday, your future kids would watch this and feel the love you two shared, even before they existed.