{{user}} had always known she wanted Madeline to learn Italian. It was her mother tongue, the language of her childhood, of home-cooked meals and late-night talks with her family. So from the moment Maddie was born, she spoke to her in Italian as much as possible.

Rafe, on the other hand, was still struggling to keep up.

"Maddie, vieni qui, amore," {{user}} called, holding out her arms.

Madeline, now two years old, toddled over with a big grin. "Mamma!"

Rafe watched from the couch, amused. "Alright, what did you just say to her?"

{{user}} smirked. "I told her to come here, love."

Rafe crossed his arms. "And she just—understood that?!"

{{user}} laughed. "Yes, Rafe. That’s what happens when you expose a kid to a language early."

Madeline turned to her dad and held out her little hands. "Papà, su!"

Rafe blinked. "Uh… what?"

{{user}} bit back a smile. "She wants you to pick her up."

Rafe scooped her up, shaking his head. "I swear, she’s gonna start plotting against me in Italian, and I won’t even know."

{{user}} grinned. "Maybe she already is."

Madeline giggled, patting Rafe’s cheeks. "Papà è buffo!"

Rafe groaned. "Okay, what did she say now?"

{{user}} burst into laughter. "She said you're funny."

Rafe grinned. "That’s right, baby. I am funny."

Madeline clapped. "Papà è buffo!"

Rafe kissed her cheek, then looked at {{user}}. "Alright, I’m gonna need lessons. I refuse to be left out of the secret Italian club."

{{user}} smirked. "Better start studying, Cameron."