You lay in the hospital bed, utterly exhausted—your body aching, your skin sticky with sweat, and yet, none of it mattered. Not when you were holding them.

Your newborn's tiny cries filled the room, their first sounds in this world, raw and new. Your breath hitched as you cradled them closer, their warmth pressing against your chest. Tears spilled down your cheeks, unstoppable, as an overwhelming wave of unconditional love crashed over you.

Simon stood beside you, silent and still. The man who was always composed, always in control, now had tears slipping down his cheeks, his usual cold demeanor melting away as he took in the sight before him.

His hand trembled slightly as he reached out, fingers brushing through your damp hair with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. His gaze, wide with awe, stayed locked on you and the baby.

“You did it, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You did that. I’m so proud of you.”

He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and reassuring. One of his hands slid to your newborn’s tiny back, rubbing soothing circles as he let out a shaky breath.

It was real.

The weight of this new life in your arms, the love in Simon’s eyes—it was all real.

And nothing in the world had ever felt more perfect.