Chapter 0443

“Oh?”

He nodded, letting Melody play with the seashell around his neck as he bounced her in his arms. “I can’t sleep without you, Hannah.”

He said it so simply, so matter-of-factly; yet, my throat tightened, my heart momentarily stilled. Little did he know I’d also had trouble sleeping since we separated.

And now here he was, holding our daughter in bed. I never thought it would come to this, but the sight brought tears to my eyes.

Clearing my throat, I turned and rearranged the plates on the cart. “Lily and I made breakfast,” I said, pushing the cart to the bed’s edge. “Thought it might be nice to have breakfast in bed. You, me, and Melody.”

Noah’s eyes widened at the food. “Hannah, you should have woken me—”

“Just…” I cut him off, shaking my head. “I wanted to do something nice.”

Noah and I were quiet for a few moments, the silence filled only with unspoken words and Melody’s happy gurgles as she played with her father’s dark hair.

Finally, Noah broke the silence. He held out his arm, beckoning me. “Come here.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I went to him and nestled against his side. Noticing my emotion, he brushed hair from my face and kissed my temple gently.

“Thank you, Hannah.”

“It’s just breakfast—”

“No. It’s not.” He lifted Melody, holding her between us. Her large green eyes, the same shade as his, lit up as she saw me. I almost cried when her tiny hands reached for me.

“It’s this,” Noah said, carefully shifting our daughter into my arms. He gestured to me, himself, Melody, the room, and the steaming food. “It’s everything. Thank you. For doing it all over again with me.”

The tenderness in his voice left me speechless. To think we had almost lost this… it was almost unbearable.

But just as a tear was about to fall, Noah picked up a strawberry and held it to my lips.

I hesitated before biting into the sweet berry. The juice exploded on my tongue—and on our daughter, whose face scrunched up at the sticky sweetness on her nose.

“Oh—” I gasped, nearly choking with laughter as her mouth formed a perfect “o” of surprise, caught between giggling and crying.

Noah pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“That was my fault,” he said, grabbing a napkin to wipe our daughter’s strawberry-stained face. “I should have known that would happen.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe breakfast in bed with a baby isn’t the best idea.”

“Not your finest, I’ll admit,” he chuckled.

We then gathered Melody and moved to the small table by the window. Noah held her on his lap, bouncing her as he fed her berries and whipped cream from his coffee, practically forgetting to eat his own.

All the while, I leaned back, sipping my coffee and watching with a smile. No tears were spilled that morning—but if they had been, they would have been tears of joy and laughter.