You

The evening light in Munich was fading into a soft, bruised purple when the frantic knocking started. Mi, who had been curled up on the sofa with a book, stood up and smoothed out her oversized sweater. Jamal was in the kitchen, his tall, athletic frame hunched slightly as he focused on peeling an orange, his mind likely still dissecting the tactical drills from training earlier that day.

When Mi opened the door, their neighbor, Elena, was standing there with a diaper bag slung over one shoulder and nine-month-old Leo balanced on her hip. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and her hands were trembling.

"Mi, I am so sorry to ask this," Elena whispered, her voice cracking. "My sister... she’s been taken to the emergency room. My husband is out of town, and I can’t take the baby into the hospital at this hour. Please, could you—"

"Say no more," Mi interrupted gently, reaching out to take the heavy diaper bag. "Go. We’ve got him. Don’t worry about a thing, Elena. Just focus on your sister."

Jamal appeared behind Mi, his expression shifting from curiosity to immediate concern. "Is everything okay?"

"Family emergency," Mi explained as she carefully took the fussy infant from Elena’s arms. "We’re babysitting tonight."

Elena offered a tearful thank you before sprinting toward the elevator. Mi closed the door with her foot, adjusting Leo against her chest. The baby let out a small, uncertain whimper, his big eyes darting around the unfamiliar living room.

"Hey there, little man," Jamal said, his voice dropping an octave into a soothing, melodic tone. He stepped closer, poking a finger playfully at Leo’s tiny hand. Leo gripped Jamal’s finger instinctively, his whimpering stopping as he stared up at the young footballer.

"He’s probably hungry," Mi said, heading toward the kitchen. "I’ll make some vegetable soup—Elena left some pre-made mash in the bag, but I think I can warm it up and thin it out with some broth so it’s easier for him."

For the next hour, Jamal became a silent, mesmerized spectator. He watched as Mi moved through the kitchen with a grace he hadn’t fully appreciated before. She was petite, but she handled the baby with a confident, effortless strength. She managed to stir the pot on the stove while keeping Leo perched on her hip, humming a soft tune that seemed to cast a spell of calm over the apartment.

When the soup was ready, Mi sat Leo in his portable high chair. Jamal sat at the table across from them, his orange forgotten. He watched as Mi patiently blew on each spoonful of soup, waiting for it to cool before offering it to the baby. She wiped a stray drop of broth from Leo’s chin with a tenderness that made Jamal’s chest ache with a sudden, sharp pang of adoration.

"He’s messy," Jamal remarked, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as Leo decided to blow a raspberry, spraying a bit of carrot puree onto Mi’s cheek.

Mi laughed, not bothered in the slightest. "It’s part of the charm, Bambi."

The evening progressed into a routine that felt strangely natural. When Leo’s diaper needed changing, Mi handled it with efficient ease, talking to the baby the whole time to keep him distracted. Jamal stood in the doorway of the nursery-turned-guest-room, leaning against the frame. He found himself unable to look away. There was something about the way Mi’s hair fell over her shoulder as she leaned over the changing table, the way she made the baby giggle by kissing his tummy, that felt like a glimpse into a future he hadn't dared to articulate yet.

Finally, as the clock ticked toward ten, Leo began to rub his eyes. Mi picked him up, swaying side to side in a rhythmic motion that looked like a slow dance. She walked back and forth in the dimly lit living room, her head resting against the baby’s soft temple.

Jamal sat on the edge of the sofa, his eyes following her every move. The sight of her—so small, so nurturing, so completely in her element—hit him with the force of a championship-winning goal. It was a realization that went beyond simple love; it was a profound sense of "rightness." He realized he wasn't just watching his girlfriend; he was watching the woman he wanted to see holding his own children one day.

Eventually, Leo’s breathing slowed into the deep, rhythmic sighs of a sleeping infant. Mi lowered herself onto the rocking chair, keeping him tucked against her heart for a few more minutes to ensure he was truly under.

"Where did you learn to do that?" Jamal whispered, his voice thick with an emotion he couldn't quite name. "You’re... you’re a natural. I’ve seen you do a lot of things, Mi, but I didn't know you were a baby whisperer."

Mi looked up, a tired but beautiful smile on her face. "I used to take care of my cousin back home. He’s nearly fifteen years younger than me. My aunt worked long shifts, so I was the one doing the feedings, the baths, the bedtime stories. I basically raised him during his first three years."

"It shows," Jamal said softly.

A soft knock at the door signaled Elena’s return. She looked exhausted but relieved, reporting that her sister was stable and would be kept overnight for observation. She thanked them profusely, took the sleeping Leo, and headed back to her own apartment.

The silence that followed was heavy, but not uncomfortable. The apartment felt strangely empty without the tiny presence of the baby.

"I need a soak," Mi sighed, stretching her arms above her head. "My back is killing me."

"I’ll run the bath," Jamal offered immediately.

A little while later, the bathroom was filled with the scent of eucalyptus and the gentle sound of water lapping against the sides of the large tub. They sat together, Mi’s back resting against Jamal’s chest. His long legs were tangled with hers under the bubbles, and his arms were wrapped securely around her waist.

The steam blurred the edges of the room, creating a private sanctuary. Jamal rested his chin on Mi's shoulder, his breath warm against her skin.

"Today was... eye-opening," he murmured into the silence.

Mi tilted her head back to look at him. "How so?"

Jamal tightened his hold on her slightly, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin beneath the water. "Seeing you with Leo. I couldn't stop thinking about it. Even when I tried to think about the game this weekend, my mind just kept going back to you in the kitchen, or you rocking him to sleep."

He paused, his heart thumping a bit faster against her spine. "I want that, Mi. I want to have a family. With you. Someday."

The confession hung in the air, heavy and sweet. Mi felt her heart skip a beat. She turned around in the tub, splashing a bit of water as she moved to face him. She stared at him for a long minute, her eyes searching his. Jamal looked vulnerable, his usual boyish confidence replaced by a raw, honest hope.

She didn't know what to say. The words felt too small for the magnitude of what she was feeling. Instead, she reached out, framing his face with her wet hands, and pulled him into a deep, lingering kiss. It was a kiss that tasted of soap and promises, a silent "yes" that echoed louder than any sentence could.

When they finally pulled apart, Jamal was beaming, his dark eyes sparkling. "Is that a good surprise or a 'we need to talk' surprise?"

"A very, very good surprise," she whispered, leaning her forehead against his.

They eventually dried off and climbed into bed, the cool sheets a stark contrast to the warmth of the bath. Usually, they would fall asleep within minutes, exhausted by their respective days, but tonight was different. The adrenaline of the future was keeping them awake.

"So," Jamal said, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked down at her in the dark. "What do you think? A boy or a girl first?"

Mi chuckled, pulling the duvet up to her chin. "I don't know, Jamal. I feel like if it’s a boy, he’s going to be just as restless as you. I’ll be chasing him all over Munich while he tries to dribble a ball through the grocery store."

"Hey, he’d have great footwork," Jamal defended with a laugh. "But imagine a little girl. With your eyes. I’d be wrapped around her finger in two seconds. I wouldn't be able to say no to anything."

"You’d be the 'fun' parent," Mi accused playfully, poking his chest. "I’d be the one making sure they eat their vegetables and do their homework, and you’d be in the backyard teaching them how to do a Cruyff turn."

"Exactly. Balance," Jamal joked. He grew quiet for a moment, his expression turning thoughtful. "Do you think they’d like football? Or maybe they’ll want to do something completely different. Music? Art?"

"Whatever they want to do, they’ll have the best support system," Mi said softly. "But let’s be honest, with your genes, they’ll probably be running before they can walk."

They spent the next few hours building a world together in the quiet of their bedroom. They talked about names—debating between traditional ones and more modern choices. They talked about where they would live, imagining a house with a big garden and a room filled with books and light. They talked about the values they wanted to instill, about kindness and hard work and staying humble.

Jamal spoke about taking a future son or daughter to the Allianz Arena for the first time, imagining the look on their face when they saw the lights and heard the roar of the crowd. Mi spoke about the quiet moments—the Sunday mornings with pancakes and the bedtime stories she couldn't wait to read.

"I can see it so clearly," Jamal whispered, his voice getting husky with sleepiness. He pulled Mi closer, tucking her head under his chin. "You, me, and a little version of us. It’s the best goal I could ever dream of."

Mi smiled, closing her eyes as she listened to the steady, strong beat of his heart. The fear of the unknown was gone, replaced by a radiant certainty.

"Me too, Jamal," she murmured. "Me too."

As the first hints of dawn began to creep through the curtains, the conversation finally tapered off into comfortable silence. Jamal’s grip on her stayed firm even as he drifted off, his subconscious refusing to let go of the vision they had built together. Mi fell asleep with a smile on her lips, dreaming of tiny shoes and the sound of laughter echoing through a hallway they hadn't walked down yet, but one she knew was waiting for them just over the horizon.