The soft hum of the morning breeze filtered through the partially opened balcony doors. Tobi sat alone in the nursery, rocking gently in the oversized cushioned chair, his eyes fixed on the peaceful faces of his four sleeping babies — Ava, Luna, Liam, and Thiago. The world outside was loud and demanding, but in here, it was quiet. Sacred.
It was days like this he never imagined having. Not at sixteen. Not when he had first gone back in time. Not when life was a blur of training, matches, and trying to stay afloat with a system in his head and pain in his past. But here he was — father of four, husband-to-be, Champions League winner… and still only twenty-three.
Behind him, Emilia leaned against the doorway, watching the father of her children with a faint smile. Her belly had flattened back to its elegant softness after the long postpartum months, but the light in her eyes had only grown stronger.
"Could watch you all day like that," she murmured.
