Golden sunlight pours through the curtains, and a gentle light fills the living room in the morning light. There's the smell of freshly brewed coffee, but before you can get a sip, you hear little feet on the wooden floor running towards you.

You barely have time to react before a small pair of arms wraps around your legs.

“Mommy!” your son’s voice is filled with excitement. His small fingers clutch something behind his back, eyes sparkling with barely contained anticipation.

You glance up at Damiano, who’s leaning against the doorway with lazy grin, his hands shoved in his pockets, but his eyes are warm and proud.

“Go on,” he murmurs to the little boy, nudging him forward gently.

Your son giggles, then reveals a slightly crumpled bouquet of flowers with all the enthusiasm his tiny body can manage. In his other hand, there’s a small, carefully wrapped package.

“Happy Mama Day!” he declares proudly, bouncing on his feet. Your little son was raised by Damiano from the beginning to respect women around him, he was a little gentleman.

Your heart clenches at the effort—at the way Damiano watches the moment unfold like he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

You crouch down, pulling your son into a hug, pressing a kiss to his messy curls. “Thank you, my love. This is the best surprise ever.”

Behind him, Damiano chuckles, stepping closer, voice hushed just for you. “Told you he’s got good taste. Just like his old man.”

And as you look between them—your boy, still grinning as he babbles about his ‘big secret mission’ with Daddy, and Damiano, who looks at you like you’re his entire world—you realize… this is what you wanted.