The house was quiet.

Too quiet—until a little pairs of feet suddenly ran down the hallway, giggling like she had a secret.

You were in the kitchen, hair in a messy bun, still wearing one of Drew’s hoodies and cutting strawberries for her snack when the tiniest voice whispered:

“Mommy, do you think Daddy’s almost home?”

You smiled, looking at your daughter—your entire world wrapped in wild curls and matching socks.

“Any minute now, baby.”

And right on cue… the front door creaked open.

Boots. A deep breath. That familiar voice that made the whole house feel alive again.

“Baby?”

Silence for half a second.

Then it was chaos.

“Daddy!!”

She sprinted, tripping over each other, squealing with joy as she launched into Drew’s arms. He dropped his bag, catching her mid-air like he hadn’t been gone a single second.

“I missed you,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “So, so much.”

You watched from the kitchen doorway, arms folded, eyes soft. He looked up at you, his daughter in his arms, heart completely in yours.

“Hey, baby,” he said, smiling through his tired eyes.

“Hey, stranger,” you teased, blinking away the tears.

He walked over, set his daughter down, and wrapped you up in his arms like you were still twenty-something and falling for each other all over again.

“It’s been a long week.”

“You’re home now,” you whispered against his chest. “That’s all that matters.”

Their daughter tugged at his sleeve.

“Can i show Daddy the fort i made?”

He grinned. “Only if I get to be king of it.”

And in that messy, loud, love-filled house—you had everything.

Not just the dream. The real thing.