The early evening sun cast a golden hue over the backyard as the small barbecue celebration came to life. It was Charles Leclerc’s 35th birthday, and though he wasn’t one for grand affairs, you had planned this intimate gathering with care. The smell of grilled vegetables and sizzling meat mingled with the laughter of close friends and family. Charles, relaxed and smiling, was at the barbecue, deep in conversation with his brother, Arthur, who, as usual, was effortlessly teasing him about their racing days.

You glanced around, ensuring everything was in place — the twinkle lights strung around the pergola, the perfectly chilled wine, and the soft playlist humming in the background. The kind of details that made moments like this timeless. Just then, you heard the sound of the front gate creaking open, and a familiar voice called out.

It was Sophia, your daughter, radiant as ever, stepping into the yard. Her hand was firmly clasped with that of her newest boyfriend — a young man whose name escaped you for a brief moment, though you vaguely remembered Charles grumbling about it over dinner last week. They made their way toward the group, Sophia’s face glowing with excitement. You noticed the way Charles subtly straightened at the sight of her, his expression softening. No matter how old she got, she’d always be his little girl.

“Papa! Buon compleanno!” Sophia exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around her father. Arthur raised an eyebrow, taking in the young man at her side, already plotting some playful remark, no doubt.