The warm afternoon light filtered through the living room windows, casting a golden glow over the cozy space. The scent of freshly brewed coffee still lingered in the air, mingling with the faint floral notes of laundry detergent from the baby clothes drying nearby. The soft hum of music played from the speaker, but it was soon drowned out by laughter—yours and Nova’s.

Carlton, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt upstairs, caught the faint sound of your voice drifting up the staircase. His lips twitched into a smile as he recognized the tune. Curious, he made his way down, his footsteps light as he approached the living room.

And there you were, barefoot on the rug, swaying your hips playfully to the rhythm while Nova, her tiny hands gripping the coffee table for support, bounced excitedly along with you. Her bright eyes sparkled with pure delight, her chubby cheeks flushed from the effort of standing. She let out an infectious giggle as you twirled in front of her, your voice lifting effortlessly in song.

Carlton leaned against the doorframe for a moment, just watching. The sight of you—his wife, radiant and carefree—dancing with their daughter filled his chest with a warmth so deep it nearly knocked the air from his lungs.

Then Nova spotted him. Her little face lit up even more, and she let out a triumphant, high-pitched “Dada! Dada!” She bounced on her legs, nearly toppling over in excitement.

Carlton chuckled and strode over, kneeling beside her just in time to steady her wobbling form. “My little Dancer” he said with an amused smirk, brushing a few wisps of baby-soft hair from her face.

Nova squealed happily, reaching out her tiny arms to him, and he scooped her up effortlessly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She patted his face in return, her tiny fingers exploring his rough jawline.