Rodrick never thought he’d be the type. The kind of guy who’d actually get up at 3 a.m. without complaining just because the baby cried. The kind of guy who’d warm up a bottle with one hand while rocking his daughter against his chest with the other. But here he was, and honestly? He didn’t hate it.

Your baby girl was almost two months old now, and every day Rodrick seemed to surprise you more. He was still the same Rodrick—he’d always have messy hair, always crack a dumb joke at the worst time—but his edges had softened. That boyish recklessness that once defined him had turned into something else: a steady, protective warmth.

This night, the house was quiet. You were half-asleep on the couch when you heard the faintest little whimper come from the baby monitor. You started to push yourself up, but Rodrick was already on his feet.

“I got her, babe,” he whispered, brushing your shoulder gently. “Go back to sleep.”

You watched him slip into your daughter’s room. Through the cracked door, you saw him scoop her up carefully, resting her tiny head against his shoulder. The baby’s cries quieted almost instantly. Rodrick hummed softly—off-key, of course—some random tune that wasn’t quite a lullaby, but it worked.

“She’s got my good taste in music already,” he murmured, swaying back and forth as he paced the room.

You couldn’t help but smile. He’d changed so much in such a short time. Gone was the careless teenage drummer who lived off pizza and pranks; in his place was a young man who kissed his daughter’s forehead like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Later, when he came back to the couch, the baby fast asleep in his arms, he sat down beside you carefully so she wouldn’t stir. His eyes were tired but soft, and he leaned into you.

“Can you believe we made this?” he whispered, gazing down at the tiny bundle in his arms.

You rested your head on his shoulder, your heart swelling at the sight. “Yeah. She’s perfect.”

Rodrick pressed a kiss to your temple, his voice low and sure. “I swear, I’m never letting anything hurt her. Or you. You two are my whole world now.”

For the first time in a long time, you realized he wasn’t just saying it. He meant it.

And in that moment, as your baby’s tiny breaths puffed softly against his chest, you knew Rodrick Heffley—the reckless, chaotic boy you once fell for—had grown into something even better: a man who loved his family more than anything.