The morning sun bathed the villa in a warm, golden glow as Isla sat at the breakfast table, sipping her tea. Dante had just finished reading the morning newspaper, and Amara was busy playing with her toys on the living room carpet. It was a peaceful morning, the kind Isla had grown to cherish.
Suddenly, Amara bounded into the room with unbridled excitement, clutching a piece of paper in her tiny hands. “Mama, Papa! Look!”
Isla smiled at her daughter’s enthusiasm, taking the paper from her. It was a colorful drawing of two stick figures holding hands.
“Is that you and me, sweetheart?” Isla asked, her voice soft with affection.
“No, Mama!” Amara giggled. “That’s me and my new friend, Liam!”
Isla’s brows rose in surprise, and she glanced at Dante, whose face had immediately hardened. “Liam?” Isla asked curiously.
Amara nodded, bouncing on her toes. “He’s my friend from the playground. We played hide and seek yesterday, and he said he wants to come to our house!”
Dante lowered his newspaper, his expression shifting to one of suspicion. “Liam? Who is this Liam? How old is he? Where are his parents?”
“Dante,” Isla said gently, placing a calming hand on his arm. “Let her explain.”
Amara pouted, sensing her father’s tone. “Papa, Liam is nice. He’s my age! His mama was sitting on the bench when we played.”
Dante leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I don’t know if I like this, Isla. We don’t even know these people.”
Isla chuckled softly. “Dante, she’s four. It’s perfectly normal for her to make friends at the playground. You can’t keep her isolated forever.”
“I’m not isolating her,” he grumbled, his gaze fixed on Amara. “I just don’t trust strangers.”
Amara’s lip wobbled, and Isla quickly intervened. “Sweetheart, why don’t you go draw another picture of you and Liam? I’ll hang it on the fridge when you’re done.”
Amara’s face brightened, and she scurried off to her room, leaving Dante and Isla alone.
—
“Dante,” Isla said, turning to him with a knowing look. “You need to relax. She’s a child. Making friends is part of growing up.”
“She’s my child,” Dante retorted, his voice low but firm. “I have every right to be cautious.”
Isla sighed, reaching across the table to take his hand. “I understand your concerns, but we can’t shelter her from the world. Let her have this.”
He stared at her for a long moment before sighing in defeat. “Fine. But I want to meet this Liam and his parents before anything else.”
—
Later that afternoon, Isla decided to take Amara back to the playground while Dante stayed behind, working on some paperwork.
Amara spotted Liam immediately and ran over to him, her laughter echoing across the park. Isla watched from a nearby bench, her heart swelling at the sight of her daughter’s joy.
“Isn’t she adorable?” a soft voice said, pulling Isla from her thoughts.
She turned to see a woman around her age sitting beside her, a kind smile on her face. Isla quickly realized this must be Liam’s mother.
“She is,” Isla replied, returning the smile. “I’m Isla, Amara’s mom.”
“Nice to meet you,” the woman said. “I’m Clara, Liam’s mom. It looks like our kids have hit it off.”
“They have,” Isla said, watching as Amara and Liam climbed the jungle gym together. “She hasn’t stopped talking about Liam since yesterday.”
Clara chuckled. “Same with Liam. He kept asking if Amara would be here today.”
The two mothers fell into easy conversation, sharing stories about their children. Isla found Clara to be warm and genuine, which put her at ease.
—
When they returned home, Amara was bursting with stories about her day. Dante, however, was still brooding.
“Did you meet the boy?” he asked, his tone clipped.
“Yes, Dante,” Isla replied, setting her purse down. “I also met his mother. She’s lovely, and they seem like a nice family.”
Dante wasn’t convinced. “I still want to meet them myself. I don’t trust just anyone around our daughter.”
“Dante,” Isla said, her voice softening. “You can meet them, but you need to calm down. Amara is happy. Isn’t that what matters?”
He ran a hand through his hair, clearly conflicted. “I just don’t want anything to happen to her.”
“She’s safe,” Isla assured him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “You’re a good father, Dante. But you can’t protect her from everything.”
He looked down at her, his expression softening as he placed a hand on her cheek. “I just want to protect what’s mine. You and Amara mean everything to me.”
Her heart fluttered at his words. “We know, Dante. And we love you for it.”
—
That night, after Amara had gone to bed, Dante and Isla sat together in the living room, the fire casting a warm glow over them.
“Thank you for putting up with my paranoia,” Dante said, his arm draped around Isla’s shoulders.
“It’s not paranoia,” she replied, resting her head against his chest. “It’s love.”
He kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You won’t ever have to find out,” she whispered, her hand resting over his heart.
Their moment was interrupted by the sound of tiny footsteps. Amara appeared in the doorway, clutching her stuffed bunny.
“Mama? Papa?” she said, her voice small.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Dante asked, his protective instincts kicking in.
“I had a bad dream,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.
Dante immediately scooped her up, holding her close. “It’s okay, princess. Papa’s here.”
Isla smiled, watching as Dante carried Amara back to her room, whispering soothing words to her. Her heart swelled with love for the man who would do anything for their family.
As she followed them down the hall, she couldn’t help but think about how lucky she was to have him.
And despite his overprotective nature, she wouldn’t change a thing.