Baby Rika was lying on the floor, his little chest rising and falling quickly. The room was quiet, but then came a soft sound—low moans, broken and weak. It wasn’t the loud crying of anger, nor the sharp scream of fear. Instead, it was a tender, aching call, as if his tiny heart whispered out for the one he missed most: his daddy.
Rika’s lips trembled as he lifted his head, scanning the space with tired eyes. His small hands reached forward, searching for comfort that wasn’t there. The moan grew longer, drawn from the depths of his loneliness. He could still remember the warmth of being held, the steady beat of a heart against his ear. Without it, he felt lost, adrift in silence.
Daddy, busy preparing milk in the next room, suddenly froze. The sound reached him—soft but filled with urgency, the kind that pierced straight through the heart. Dropping everything, he hurried back, eyes meeting his little one who was struggling to sit upright.
The moment Rika saw him, the weak moan broke into a louder sob, a mix of relief and desperation. Daddy bent down, scooping him into his arms. Immediately, Rika pressed his face into Daddy’s chest, his cries softening into small, shuddering breaths.
“Shh, Daddy’s here,” he whispered, rocking him gently. The baby monkey clung tightly, his fragile body slowly relaxing as the comfort of touch replaced the emptiness he had felt moments before.
That low moan had been more than just a sound—it was a plea, a cry for connection. And in Daddy’s embrace, Rika finally found the answer. The fear melted away, replaced by the security of love that promised never to leave him.
