Simon never thought that there would come a time in his life when, coming home after a hard day and hearing joyful babbling mixed with children's cries, he would be happy.

He always considered himself unworthy of such a future – calm, stable and happy. There was blood on his hands, the lives of many dozens, if not hundreds of people over the years of his service. His childhood was not perfect and did not give him an example of how it should be.

But you gave him this example.

Being married for several years, before that having a relationships, and after taking off his jacket and going into the living room, he can't help but smile as he watches you play on the carpet in the middle of the room with your eldest child, a boy.

"Mommy, don't move!" The boy speaks, obviously acting as an artist, painting paper with crayons.

You try to lie on your side, but your other child, a girl, starts squeaking in her bouncer next to you.

"I'm trying, honey, but it looks like baby sister needs to be fed."

Your thoughts are torn by two children. The living room is a bit of a mess, and dinner probably hasn't had time to cook yet. You look a little tired and disheveled.

But Simon looks at you like you're the queen of the world. His world, at least.

And when your eyes cross, you can literally read the sentence in his eyes.

"I'm so damn lucky to have ya."