Chapter 37

THE NIGHT HAD been long and restless for Osiris, his fatigue palpable as the dim glow of his phone's screen illuminated the room. Baby Luca's cries had pierced through the stillness of the night once again, leaving Osiris to stumble through the delicate dance of parenthood in the wee hours.

Almost half past 3 in the morning, and Luca's cries showed no signs of subsiding. Osiris's bleary eyes met the clock, and he sighed in exasperation. It seemed like his efforts to soothe his son were in vain tonight, each attempt met with only momentary relief before the cries resumed with renewed fervor.

"Come on, little man," Osiris murmured, his voice a mixture of weariness and determination. He cradled Luca in his arms, pacing the room in a gentle sway. "Let's try the magic touch again, shall we?"

But Luca's cries persisted, a symphony of infant distress that seemed to fill the room with a chorus of frustration. Osiris glanced at his phone, a part of him tempted to reach out to Summer but he was