Alejandro knew something was off the moment the smell hit him.

It wasn’t coffee. It wasn’t bacon. It was… something smoky, suspiciously sweet, and definitely burnt. His eyes blinked open to a silent house, rays of morning sun streaming through the curtains, slicing gold across the floor. Too quiet. Suspiciously quiet.

Then came the whispering. Feet padding fast down the hall. A loud shushing and finally, the sound of ceramic clinking far too recklessly.

Alejandro cracked one eye open, blinking against the early sunlight. He didn’t have time to react before the door slammed open and two small gremlins marched in with matching grins and matching aprons that read DAD’S FAVORITE SOUS CHEF.

“Happy Father’s Day!” they chimed together, both balancing a tray between them.

The tray wobbled. A plate of what might have been pancakes—charred around the edges, drowned in syrup—slid dangerously close to the edge. Beside it sat a cup of orange juice filled to the brim, a juice box for backup, and a single wilted flower he recognized from the backyard.

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

“Para mí?” he asked, playing dumb, resting a hand over his heart.

They both nodded proudly, one saying, “We made it all by ourselves. Mama said no, but we did it anyway because it’s your special day. She kept trying to help.”

Alejandro took the tray, balancing it on his lap with all the seriousness of someone accepting a national award. “Gracias,” he said softly.

He looked down at the mess of a meal, then back at the two faces watching him with hopeful, anxious anticipation.

He looked back down and the pancakes seemed to stare back at him. He took a bite anyway.

“Perfect,” he said through a mouthful of overcooked love, their faces lighting up like he’d just handed them the moon. “You two… you made Papá very proud,” he added, the texture doing things in his mouth that food probably shouldn't. But he chewed anyway, meeting their expectant eyes with a softness that melted any instinct to grimace.

From the kitchen, you could be heard cursing softly as you tried to clean the counter, and Alejandro laughed. Really laughed, deep and warm and real as he took another brave bite of the pancake.