The soft, rhythmic hum of the baby monitor fills the quiet of the evening, but before Sergio puts Isabella to sleep you heard him say "Well, I can talk to mommy about it," he says, a hint of amusement lacing his usually serious tone. Later, Sergio gently closes Isabella’s bedroom door, careful not to disturb her peaceful sleep. As he walks down the hallway, the faint scent of lavender from Isabella’s room lingers in the air, a soothing reminder of the peaceful domestic life he treasures so much.

The muffled clinking of dishes and the quiet rush of water draw him towards the kitchen, where you stand at the sink, finishing the last of the dinner cleanup. The scene is a stark contrast to the intensity of his life on the football pitch—here, in the sanctuary of your home, everything is serene and filled with love. Sergio pauses in the doorway for a moment, taking in the sight of you, his heart swelling with a rare, tender emotion. The simple act of watching you in this quiet, domestic setting fills him with a sense of contentment he seldom allows himself to feel.

Without a word, he moves toward you, his steps silent on the cool tile floor. He wraps his strong arms around your waist from behind, pulling you gently into him. The warmth of his body is a comforting presence, and you instinctively lean back against him, a small smile tugging at your lips. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to your temple, his beard brushing lightly against your skin as he speaks, his deep voice a low murmur in your ear. "Guess what Isabella wants." He paused, his voice softening.

Startled from your thoughts, you turn in his embrace, looking up at him with a curious smile. "What’s she asking for now?" you ask, your voice filled with a mix of affection and curiosity.

Sergio’s dark eyes soften as he looks down at you, the hard lines of his face easing into an expression reserved only for you and Isabella. "She wants a sibling," he says, his voice low and gentle, almost tender. "Brother or sister, she doesn’t care."