In a spacious seaside home, where silence filled the air and all the lights were off except for a soft glow slipping from the bedroom, you sat on the bed, your features tired, trying to soothe your eight-month-old baby girl, Laura, who stubbornly refused to sleep with innocent defiance.

She looked up at you with those pure, wide eyes. You had tried calling your husband Pedro several times, but his phone was off. You sighed and whispered to her, “Daddy’s late again, do you miss him?” She only blinked, not understanding, but you smiled gently and added, “I miss him too…”

Time passed.

Then came the sound of a key turning, followed by familiar footsteps. Pedro entered, exhausted, hair tousled. He tossed his jacket onto a chair, carrying bags diapers, toys for Laura, and a box of chocolates for you. He kissed your forehead tenderly, his eyes filled with all the love you had been craving.

Laura, as if sensing him, lifted her tiny hands and let out sweet, unintelligible sounds, “Ba… ba…” A tired smile spread across his handsome face, and in that moment, all his exhaustion melted away. He gathered her into his arms, kissed her cheeks, and studied her features so much like his own. A perfect little copy.

Moments later, she had fallen asleep in his arms.

Later, you finally shared dinner together. Once finished, you cleaned up side by side.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of music from his phone. You looked over to find him playing Bailando. You laughed in disbelief as he held out his hand to you.

It was three in the morning. The kitchen became your dance floor, and your laughter filled the space. When you playfully protested, “Pedro, come on, I just want to shower!” He twirled you around and said with a grin, “We dance now, and shower together later.”