And when the night is cloudy
There is still a light that shines on me
Shine on until tomorrow, let it be

Singing softly, Diane rocks her small charge until the baby's eyes close and she shifts in her arms, mouth opening slightly in a milky sigh.

"Looks good on you," Kurt says from the doorway of her office.

"Oh," she says, looking up. "I'm sorry, Kurt. I can't leave yet. Her mother is in a deposition with Will. Somehow I was elected babysitter." She rolls her eyes, faux put-upon, but really this tiny girl is welcome to sleep in her arms as long as she wants, even if it means missing dinner with her husband.

But he only shrugs, joining them on the couch. "No rush. Like I said, this is a pretty picture." He's often wondered what might have happened had they met sooner, before a family was out of the question.

"You know," she says, looking down in the face of the sleeping infant. "I don't regret not being a mother. I wouldn't have been a good one. Don't," she says, anticipating his objection before his mouth even opens. "You didn't know me when I was still young enough for all that. You think I work too much now… Back then, when Jonas and I were building the firm, I slept three hours a night, barely ate, didn't have time for relationships, and Kurt, I loved every minute of it. I would have resented anything and anyone that interfered with that life."

The baby yawns, her small face contorting and her arm coming up to rub her eyes with a tiny fist. Both adults hold their breath until she stills again.

"I don't regret my choices," she continues, her voice barely above a whisper, "but sitting here, I've realized I am sad about one unforeseen consequence of them. Because I'm no one's mother, I'll never be anyone's Grandma. And I think that's a job I could've really been good at."

She looks over to him and he nods. "You would've been." He slides closer, puts his arm around her, and together they watch the baby sleep, thinking about what might have been.