Max is the one who brings it up in the first place. We’re all sitting in our living room - {{user}} curled up against my side, our daughter asleep on her chest - when he glances over and says, “Mate, why don’t you two let us babysit sometime? You haven’t had a proper evening to yourselves since she was born.”

Pietra nods immediately, bright and warm. “Seriously. We’d love to. Just say when.”

{{user}} looks at me, surprised but already softening at the idea. And I realise how long it’s been since we did anything that wasn’t feeding schedules, naps, or trying not to wake the baby while brushing our teeth.

So we say yes.

A few nights later, I’m buckling our daughter into her little seat inside Max and Pietra’s hallway and she’s gripping my hoodie strings like she knows we’re leaving. She’s only a few months old, but she’s already got this way of looking at me like she’s reading every thought in my head. {{user}} strokes her cheek, whispering soft things that make the baby’s eyes flutter with sleep.

Max grins, leaning against the doorframe. “Go. Enjoy. I swear she’ll survive two hours without you.”

Pietra rolls her eyes. “Max, say it nicely.” Then she smiles at {{user}}. “We’re excited. Really. Go have fun.”

I squeeze {{user}}’s waist gently. “Text us if anything happens.”

Pietra laughs. “Lando, please. We’ve got this.”

Still, it takes us another five minutes to finally step out of the apartment. And even then, when I close the door behind us, {{user}} stands there staring at it, bottom lip trembling like she’s leaving her whole soul on the other side.

I brush her cheek with my thumb. “Hey. She’s okay. She loves them. She’s probably already charming them into doing whatever she wants.”

She nods, but she doesn’t speak.

When we reach the car, I unlock it and help her in, one hand at her back. The moment the door shuts, she exhales - and suddenly her eyes well up. Big, glassy, unstoppable tears. She presses her palms against her cheeks, half-laughing, half-crying.

“Oh my god,” she says, shaking her head. “What is wrong with me? We’re literally two minutes away.”

I climb into the driver’s seat and turn to her fully. The overhead light catches the shine of her eyes, and somehow it makes my chest ache in the softest way. She’s laughing at herself, shoulders shaking and I can’t stop smiling. She’s so emotional, so full of love it spills over and I swear it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

“Love..” I say, leaning closer, brushing a tear with my thumb. “It’s okay. You’re a great mum. That’s all this is.”

“I know,” she sniffles. “But I miss her. Already. I didn’t think it would hit me this fast.”

“It means you care. And she’s going to be asleep the whole time anyway,” I tease. “We’ll be home before she even notices we left.”

She laughs again, wiping under her eyes. “You’re supposed to tell me I’m ridiculous.”

“You are,” I say softly, kissing her forehead. “But in the best possible way.”

She breathes out, calmer now, leaning into my touch. And in that moment, with Monaco glowing outside the windshield and her hand slowly finding mine over the center console, I realise how much I’ve missed this. Just us. Just being a couple, not parents on duty.

I thread my fingers through hers. “Ready for our first date as mum and dad?”

She squeezes my hand, giving me this watery smile that knocks the air out of me. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

I start the engine, still holding her hand as I pull onto the quiet street. And even though she glances back toward Max and Pietra’s building one last time, she’s smiling now - soft and warm - and I know the night is going to be perfect.