That night, after Mira had fallen asleep, Leon remained awake. The room was dimly lit and she had unconsciously moved closer in her sleep, her hand clutching the sleeve of his shirt.
Leon looked down at her and smiled faintly. Every day, she waited for him, baked for him. She filled the empty villa with laughter.
It should have been enough.
It was enough.
But it wasn't complete. His gaze drifted toward his phone on the bedside table. The secret folder that had been turned face down for months.
He opened it.
Mira sat in the garden with Mumu in her lap. Little Mumu's chubby hands were reaching for Leon, who stood beside them with the rarest of expressions on his face.
A smile.
His thumb brushed gently over the photographs. He had hidden every picture. Packed away his every toys. Locked every memory from her.
But lately... His resolve had begun to crack. Watching Mira laugh again in the garden, he got greedy. Watching her stop outside children's stores without knowing why and instinctively smile whenever she heard a baby giggle, he know its the time.
A message on his phone.
"Young Master."
It was James.
Leon stepped into the hallway.
"You've been thinking about it again."
Leon remained silent.
After a while, he finally spoke.
"How is he?"
James understood immediately.
"Young Master Mumu is doing well."
"He started saying more words this week."
Leon's fingers tightened around his phone.
"What was the new word?"
James smiled. "He can say 'Papa' very clearly now."
Leon lowered his eyes.
"And..."
James hesitated.
"He still calls every woman with long hair 'Mama.'"
The hallway fell silent.
For the first time in a long while, pain was visible on Leon's face.
James spoke carefully.
"The doctors advised, we can slowly try."
"I know."
" But we also have to be careful. If Young Mistress remembers too suddenly—"
"I know." Leon looked toward the bedroom door.
Beyond it, Mira slept peacefully. A gentle smile unconsciously rested on her lips.
He stared at her for a long time before answering. His voice was barely above a whisper.
"I've become greedy."
James looked at him.
Leon laughed softly at himself. "I told myself that as long as she survived, I would ask for nothing more."
"Then I wished for her to wake up."
"When she woke up, I wished for her to smile."
"When she smiled, I wished for her to love me again."
He looked down at the photograph.
"And now..."
"...I want her to remember our child."
His voice broke for the first time.
"I want to see the three of us sitting at the same table."
"I want to hear her call Mumu."
"I want to watch him run into her arms."
He closed his eyes.
"I know it's selfish."
"I know I should wait."
"But every day he grows up without his mother..."
"...and every day she lives without knowing her own son."
James remained silent. There was no advice he could offer.
Because Leon wasn't fighting the doctors anymore.
He was fighting the heart of a husband...
and the heart of a father.
Behind the half-closed bedroom door, Mira shifted in her sleep.
A faint smile crossed her face as she whispered a single word she didn't understand.
"...Mu..."
Leon froze.
His eyes widened.
For a brief moment, hope and fear collided within him.
Then the room fell silent once more.
He slowly looked at the family photograph in his hands.
Perhaps...
The time to bring his family back together was closer than he had dared to believe.