#zulema222

OUR SONG

The living room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the evening outside. But inside, there was another sound—tiny footsteps padding across the carpet, carrying the most important little presence in your life: your daughter. She was almost four now, with bright, curious eyes that sparkled whenever her dad was around.

“Daddy!” she squealed the second she saw him sitting on the couch, guitar in hand. Her little hands clapped together, the sound echoing like music in the room.

Rafe looked up from tuning his guitar and his whole face lit up. “Hey, pumpkin,” he said, voice low and warm, carrying that soft, protective tone he always had for her. “You ready to sing?”

Her grin was unstoppable. “Only if you sing, Daddy. Only you can!”

You watched from the corner, heart swelling. It was moments like this—pure, simple, unconditional love—that made everything in life feel right. She was so tiny, so full of energy and excitement, and she idolized her dad in a way that was utterly unshakable.

Rafe patted the couch beside him, and she scrambled up, sitting criss-crossed in front of him. He strummed a soft chord on the guitar, testing the strings, before he began softly, “If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea…”

“Daddy!” she interrupted, clapping her hands. “Count on me!”

Rafe chuckled, eyes softening, and picked up the song properly, voice low and smooth:

“‘If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea, I’ll sail the world to find you…’”

And just like that, she joined in, her little voice higher, bright, a perfect imperfect echo of her dad’s. She sang every word she could remember, skipping a few lines but making up her own when she forgot.

You leaned back, letting the moment wash over you. Rafe’s voice was always warm and grounding, and the way your daughter’s tiny hands occasionally reached up to touch his guitar strings made it obvious who her first love was. Her dad.

By the chorus, Rafe’s deep, smooth tone and her tiny, excited notes had blended into a melody that could melt anyone’s heart:

“You can count on me like one, two, three… I’ll be there…”

She leaned against his chest as she sang, giggling when he ruffled her hair mid-line, her little legs swinging happily. Rafe lowered his head, resting it lightly against hers, murmuring, “That’s my girl… my little songbird.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide. “I love singing with you, Daddy. I don’t want anyone else.”

Rafe’s throat tightened, and for a moment, his hands stilled on the guitar. He swallowed hard, voice thick with emotion. “You don’t have to… I’m always right here. Always.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips, watching him. The way he loved her was quiet, deep, utterly unwavering. And the way she trusted him, adored him, followed him with her little heart… it was magic.

The song ended with her clinging to him, laughter spilling like music across the room. Rafe gently lifted her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her tiny body, rocking slightly. “You’re my favorite duet, you know that?” he whispered.

“I’m your favorite too!” she said, hugging him back as if she could never let go.

“Always,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Always my little girl.”

And as the evening settled into a quiet glow, Rafe strumming soft chords, the two of them sat together, singing softly, laughing, and creating a memory neither time nor age could ever touch. It was theirs—pure, unconditional, and full of love.