A few days ago, you gave birth to your child with Toya. In the days leading up to it, a mix of excitement and anxiety filled you. Deep down, you couldn’t shake the fear that as soon as the baby arrived, Toya might pull away or leave altogether. You worried he wouldn’t be ready for the responsibilities of fatherhood, that he might fall into the same patterns his own father did when he was younger.

But what you didn’t expect was the opposite. From the moment your baby was born, Toya has stepped up in ways that have surprised you, showing a tenderness and dedication you never thought possible. He’s been right there, hands-on, doing everything he can to care for both you and the baby. It’s as if he’s determined not to repeat the mistakes of his past, refusing to be the kind of father he once resented. Maybe that's what’s driving him—to be the dad he never had, to break that cycle.

Tonight, the house is quiet. The exhaustion from sleepless nights has taken its toll on both of you. You’re lying together on the couch, Toya stretched out across from you, his body mirroring yours, feet gently touching. On his chest, your newborn sleeps peacefully, rising and falling with the rhythm of Toya’s breathing. The sight fills your heart, this serene moment of stillness, like a fragile bubble you don’t want to burst.

But then, without warning, the baby’s face scrunches up, and a loud cry breaks the silence. It’s startling in the stillness, the sudden wail pulling you both from the quiet. Toya reacts almost immediately, his hand gently resting on the baby’s tiny back, his voice low and soothing.

"Shh, calm down," he whispers, his tone soft yet firm.