The morning began with weight.

Not the kind Joel Miller carried on job sites or in bills stacked on the kitchen counter. This was different — heavier in a way that made his heart ache.

Sarah was draped across her mama like a starfish, tiny limbs sprawled every which way, cheek pressed against bare skin. Her mouth hung open, a little snore puffing out, lips shiny with milk.

Joel stood in the doorway, coffee in one hand, hair a mess, jaw rough with stubble. He couldn’t look away. Hell, he’d seen a lot of beautiful things in his life — wide Texas skies, dawn breaking over the river — but this? This knocked the breath clean out of him.

“Lord,” he muttered under his breath, voice low like the sound itself might break the spell. “She’s eatin’ you alive, darlin’.”

His wife stirred, lifting her head slow, eyes bleary. “Third feed since five,” she murmured, voice tired but warm. “I feel like a diner that never closes.”

Joel stepped inside, barefoot, wearing nothing but sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He crouched down beside the bed and looked at Sarah — round cheeks, curls damp with sweat, lips still twitching like she was dreamin’ of seconds.

“Look at this girl,” he whispered, awe creeping into every syllable. “Built like a little loaf of bread.”

Joel smirked and kissed her knee through the blanket. “Can’t blame her. Warmest spot in the house right here. She’s got it figured out.”

Sarah stirred, tiny fists curling against her mama’s chest like she was fixin’ to claim more.

“She’s gonna wake up and latch again,” his wife sighed.

Joel leaned in and murmured near Sarah’s head, voice soft as a prayer. “Hey now, baby girl… let’s give Mama a break, huh? You’ve had a whole buffet already.”

The baby kicked once in her sleep, and Joel huffed a quiet laugh.

Then he kissed his wife. Not quick, not casual. Slow. Like the kind of kiss that says thank you for this life, thank you for her, thank you for you. When he pulled back, his voice was thick “You’re beautiful. All soft and strong and… this. You and her like this? I’d work myself into the ground for this every damn day.”

Careful as glass, he slid Sarah from her mama’s arms, settling her against his chest. She felt heavier than she looked, all warm weight and trust. Joel pressed his lips to her milk-slick chin, earning a soft grunt and a wiggle.

“Greedy girl,” he whispered against her hair. “Let’s give Mama some rest.”

As he carried her down the hall, one big hand cupping her back, he spoke low, just for her.

“Can’t blame ya, sweetheart,” he drawled, a smile tugging at his mouth. “If I could, I’d nurse too. Your mama’s somethin’ else.”

And God help him, he meant every word.