It had been nearly a week since they'd returned home with the babies.
And in that short time, Leon had transformed.
The man who once led boardrooms in tailored suits now moved through the halls barefoot, sleeves rolled up, hair a permanent mess of sleep-deprived curls. His voice had softened, his stride had slowed—but his confidence? Unshaken.
In fact, he had become nothing short of masterful.
Morning light streamed into the nursery as Leon adjusted the blackout curtains just enough to let warmth in without waking the babies.
Elias, the quietest of the three, blinked up from his swaddle as if taking mental notes on how to breathe, how to stretch, how to be.
Lila and Amara? Not so quiet. But fiercely expressive.
He handled each cry with a rhythm now—no longer startled, no longer second-guessing.
One bottle prepped.
One gentle burp.
One song whispered softly in a voice made gravelly by lack of sleep but layered with love.
He could do all of it.
And he did.
By midday, Aria finally emerged from the bedroom with her robe tied loose and her steps lighter. Her color had returned little by little, and while her body still ached in places she hadn't known could ache, she could breathe again. Eat again. Smile without wincing.
And she found him where she always did now.
In the living room. Floor mat spread, bottles rinsed, three babies positioned like sleepy little planets orbiting the calm force that was Leon.
"Hey," he greeted, looking up from Elias's bottle without missing a beat. "You slept through their 6 a.m. tag team cry. Proud of you."
She chuckled as she dropped beside him. "Only because you handled it."
He gave a mock bow. "Multi-tasking is my middle name now."
Aria glanced at the tablet propped nearby, a muted video call still ongoing. A familiar assistant's face flashed briefly before being replaced by pie charts and projections.
"You're still attending meetings like this?"
"I only unmute to vote and give ultimatums. Otherwise, I let them squabble."
"And the board?"
"They know I'm on paternity leave. I told them, 'This is temporary. Try not to burn the company down.'"
She reached over to stroke Elias's hair. "And you don't mind doing all this? Diapers and bottles and spit-up? All day?"
He paused. Then smiled with a softness that rooted itself deep in her chest.
"No, Aria. I don't mind."He leaned over and kissed the crown of her head. "I've done a lot of things in my life. None of them ever felt this important."
That evening, after dinner and the fourth diaper explosion of the day, they lay side by side on the couch—Amara asleep on Aria's chest, Lila draped across Leon's stomach, Elias snuggled between them like a perfectly placed comma.
"Do you think we'll ever sleep a full night again?" Aria murmured.
"No."
She laughed.
He grinned. "But I think we'll get something better."
"What's that?"
"Moments like this. Every night, every hour... it all adds up. And someday, when they're grown and storming around with backpacks and opinions, we'll miss this."
She turned her head just enough to catch the emotion in his eyes. "You're really all in, aren't you?"
He looked down at the sleeping babies.
Then up at her.
"I've never been more in."