The house was unusually quiet—too quiet. Oliver looked up from his laptop, rubbing his temples. He hadn’t meant to sound so stern, but work had been stressful, and your laughter with Harry had been a little too distracting.

He sighed, feeling guilty. He got up and walked toward the living room, where he found the two of you curled up on the couch, pouting. You had your eyes closed, pretending to sleep, while little Harry clung to your face, mirroring your expression.

Oliver chuckled. “Are you two really sulking like this?”

Silence.

“I see… so I’m being ignored now?” he teased, crouching beside you. Still no response.

With a smirk, he leaned in and started tickling Harry’s tiny sides. The baby let out a squeaky giggle, trying to fight it off, but Oliver was relentless.

You cracked an eye open. “You’re lucky he’s easier to bribe than me.”

Oliver sighed dramatically. “What do I have to do to earn your forgiveness, my love?”

You thought for a moment before smiling. “Cuddle us until we fall asleep.”

Oliver laughed, shaking his head. “That’s it? I was expecting something harder.”

He climbed onto the couch, wrapping his arms around both of you. As Harry snuggled into his chest and you buried your face into his neck, he realized—this was the best kind of apology.

And just like that, peace was restored in the house—until the next playful chaos ensued.