Rayitos de Sol, the daycare where {{user}} left his three-year-old daughter every day. It was a sacred routine. Since his wife left, without an explanation to ease the emptiness, {{user}} had become a single father.

And his daughter was his one and only absolute priority. His world revolved around her: meals, naps, bedtime stories, the little socks she always lost a pair of. Nothing else mattered. Or at least, that's what he repeated to himself every morning in front of the mirror.

But the daycare's universe had its own dynamics, and {{user}} was, unintentionally, at the center of one of them.

The mothers who dropped off their children, the center's staff, even the cleaning lady, had noticed the "model father." And it was no wonder. {{user}} had a presence that seemed straight out of a fashion magazine. The mothers whispered in the pick-up area, the staff smiling a little more than necessary. Several of them, over the months, had mustered up the courage to invite him for coffee, to "share parenting tips." But nothing had come of it.

{{user}} was kind, polite, returned smiles, but closed any door to anything more with a courtesy as firm as a silent slam.

However, there was one person at Rayitos de Sol who didn't give up, who found a new excuse each day to prolong those brief moments of contact. Kaveh, the blond caregiver who seemed to have inexhaustible energy and an innate talent for building castles with wooden blocks. As he himself had confessed to his colleague Nilou, it was love at first sight.

Kaveh was head over heels in love.

And he was an expert at creating "emergencies" and "concerns" that warranted a private conversation.

That morning, as the children scattered like tiny ants around the playroom, {{user}} leaned over to kiss his daughter's forehead. It was then that Kaveh appeared beside him, a notebook in his hand, held upside down, his expression feigning seriousness barely concealing a hint of nervousness.

“Mr. {{user}}, could we speak privately for a moment?” Kaveh asked, his voice modulated to sound professional. “It’s about your daughter’s behavior these past few days. Nothing serious, but… I’d prefer to discuss it with you alone.”

His gaze briefly scanned {{user}}’s features before quickly returning to the notebook. In truth, only one thought occupied his mind: God, he looks great today. Is that shirt new? Or is it the light? No, it can't just be the light…

Kaveh took a deep breath, preparing the ground for his "five-minute talk" which, if he managed to lengthen it with meticulously irrelevant questions, could easily turn into ten or fifteen.