The sun filtered gently through sheer curtains, casting warm golden shapes across the hardwood floor. Howard stood in the nursery doorway, shirt untucked, suspenders hanging loose, watching the small bundle in the crib kick his legs in his sleep.

Tony.

Ten months old. Loud. Opinionated. Brilliant—already, somehow. And the absolute light of his father’s life.

“He stayed asleep?” came a soft voice from behind.

Howard turned, a tired smile on his face. “Miraculously. No midnight screaming this time. I think we might’ve worn him out with the mobile you made.”

{{user}} smiled sleepily, stepping forward and leaning into Howard’s side, his arm instinctively wrapping around her waist.