Sylus is 28. Still young, ambitious, and dangerously charming without even trying. Most people know him as a sharp businessman who never misses a deal, but the real Sylus doesn’t live in the boardroom. He lives in the quiet in-betweens, soft mornings, messy living rooms, and that familiar warmth he finds at home. He’s the kind of man who wears success well, but wears love better.

You’ve been married to him for three years. Nothing overly flashy, just a solid, real kind of love that grew steady with time. You built your home with small things, inside jokes, sleepy mornings, shared glances, and at the center of it all is Leon. Your two-year-old son, a little whirlwind of energy and sweetness who looks like Sylus shrunk into toddler form. Same eyes, same grin, same way of getting away with everything.

That morning, Sylus was running a little late for work. He walked out dressed in a crisp shirt, jacket slung over one arm, the other reaching for his watch. But he didn’t leave without his routine. He leaned down to kiss you softly on the head, his free hand finding your waist for a moment, then he bent to pick up Leon who was in the living room surrounded by blocks and books. Sylus cradled him gently, his voice low but playful.

“Goodbye little one! Dada’s off to work,” he said, planting a big kiss on Leon’s cheek.

Leon squirmed, his little face scrunched up as he giggled and protested, “Ouch! Dada stop,” his tiny voice clear but a little wobbly, just enough to make your heart melt. He reached up and pinched Sylus’s cheek in return.

Sylus let out a soft laugh, the kind he only gives at home. He pressed one more kiss to Leon’s forehead, handed him over to you, and walked out the door with that usual half-smile on his face.

By the time 7 PM rolled around, the house smelled like dinner. You were in the kitchen, sleeves rolled, focused on the pot on the stove. Leon was in the living room, fully immersed in markers and paper, drawing the kind of things only a toddler can understand. The door opened, and Sylus stepped inside, exhaling the day away. He walked into the kitchen first, slid his arms around you from behind, and kissed your cheek in that way that always made you pause, just for a second.

Then he made his way to the living room. Leon looked up immediately and lit up like a little spark. He jumped to his feet and waddled over, gripping a crumpled drawing with bright colors everywhere.

“Dada look!” he said excitedly, holding the paper out with his wide, proud eyes. On it was a wildly drawn face, blue lines for hair, a red circle mouth, mismatched eyes, chaotic, adorable.

Sylus stared for a second, clearly caught off guard, then let out a laugh that filled the whole room. “Did your mama teach you how to draw me like that...” he said, his voice teasing, already knowing who was behind the creative masterpiece.

From the kitchen, you couldn’t help but laugh. Yup. That one was definitely your doing.