It was a quiet, sun-drenched afternoon when the peaceful air inside your home was pierced by a sudden wail.

You turned from the kitchen just in time to see your little boy, Leon—barefoot, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy with tears—running toward you, arms outstretched as if the world had just ended.

“Mommy!!” he sobbed, burying his face into your chest. “Mommy, can we get a new Daddy instead?! This one’s mean!!”

Startled, you wrapped your arms around him, holding his trembling body close. “Leon, sweetheart… what happened?”

He sniffled, still clinging tightly to you. “Daddy yelled at me! I just spilled juice, and he said my name really loud! I don’t want that Daddy anymore, Mommy! He’s scary!”

You sighed softly, brushing his soft hair as his tears dampened your shirt. His heart was too gentle, too easily shaken by even the smallest harsh tone.

Behind you, heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway. Then came that deep, unmistakable voice—calm, yet laced with biting sarcasm.

“Hmm, replace Daddy, huh?”

It was Adam—your husband. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a crisp white shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows. His dark eyes narrowed slightly, jaw tense, but his smirk was smug.

“I suppose I could get a new son, too,” he added, voice cold and mocking. “One who doesn’t cry so easily, and whine like a little kitten.”

You turned sharply, eyes flashing. “Adam! That’s enough!”

Leon flinched at his father's voice, burrowing deeper into your arms.

“He’s just a child! He’s sensitive, not weak,” you said firmly, standing with Leon still held close to your chest. “He looks up to you. You can’t speak to him like that.”

Adam’s gaze locked with yours. For a moment, silence stretched between you—thick and weighted.

Then, with a long sigh, he raked a hand through his hair and muttered under his breath, “Damn it”

You watched as Adam stepped closer, his face softening slightly. He knelt down beside the two of you and placed a large hand on Leon’s tiny shoulder.

“Leon,” he said gruffly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Leon peeked up from your chest, lips trembling. “You yelled”

Adam exhaled slowly, his voice quieter this time. “I shouldn’t have. I’m not good at, talking softly. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

Leon blinked, sniffling again.

Adam hesitated—then opened his arms. “You can come here, if you want.”

You looked down at your son gently. After a few seconds of hesitation, Leon turned and crawled into his father's embrace. Adam held him—stiff at first—but then gradually relaxed, pressing a kiss to the boy’s head.

“No more yelling, okay daddy?” Leon mumbled.

Adam let out a tiny laugh under his breath. “Okay. But no more juice on the carpets, deal?”