It is late one night when he finally arrives home from work. He peeks into Aria's room and finds her fast asleep on her stomach. He sees a sliver of light casting a pale glow in the hallway coming from Melody's room. As he approaches he hears the hushed voices of his wife and daughter.

Beca is just finishing up the last lines of one of Melody's many children's books which talk about how much parents love their children.

"Mommy? Do you love Daddy like you love me?" he hears his six-year-old ask.

"Well, not exactly like you, but yes. I love Daddy very much," Beca answers.

"When I grow up, I want to marry someone just like Daddy," Melody states matter-of-factly.

"I hope you do," Beca whispers softly, tucking a stray hair behind her child's ear.

"Mommy? Will you tell me the story of how you met Daddy again?"

"Sure honey," Beca replies. She looks into the beautiful, brown eyes of her baby, Jesse's eyes, and takes a breath.

"When Mommy and Daddy were in college, Daddy sang to Mommy from the back of Grandpa's car while Grandma and Grandpa were dropping Daddy off on the first day. Mommy thought Daddy was very silly, singing to her like that, but she remembered him when she met him again for real at the radio station where they ended up working together. Daddy kept trying to get Mommy's attention, trying to get her to smile and laugh, and Mommy was being very stubborn."

"Why?" Melody interrupts.

"Because Mommy was afraid. Daddy was special, and so different from Mommy, and she was afraid that if she loved him he would end up breaking her heart."

"But he never did," her daughter interjects, already knowing the story.

"No," Beca continues, "And Daddy kept pushing her to open her heart to him, but she refused, and pushed him away. They didn't talk for a while, and Mommy was very sad. She tried to apologize, but she had hurt Daddy, so instead she decided to sing to him."

"Don't you forget about me," Melody sings, smiling up at her mother.

"Yes, it was her way of telling Daddy she loved him and wasn't afraid anymore. And she was very, very lucky, because he forgave her."

"And you kissed and lived happily ever after!" Melody exclaims, causing her mother to laugh.

"Yes baby," Beca smiles, pressing a kiss to her daughter's forehead, "Now it's time for bed."

"Will you sing to me until I fall asleep?" Melody asks.

"Ok honey," Beca replies, stroking her hair softly. She begins to sing the first few verses of The Beatles' In My Life. Before she is even halfway through the song, she notices her daughter's even breathing, and as she runs her fingers through her auburn hair that looks just like her mother's and her dimpled cheeks that look just like her father's, her heart swells with love for her child.

"I do hope you find someone like your father," she whispers to her sleeping child in the darkness. "Someone who loves you for who you are, unconditionally, without judgment. Someone who brings out the best in you. Someone who pushes you to try harder, to be better, to do more, to love. Someone who makes you feel beautiful just from the way he looks at you. Someone who is honest and true. Someone filled with passion and joy and inspiration for life. Someone who even when you're in an argument, you can't really be mad at him, because you love him with all your heart and he loves you just as fiercely. That's what I hope for you, baby girl." She tucks the sheets around Melody's sleeping form and tiptoes out of the room, cracking the door open behind her.

"I love you too," his voice startles her.

She jumps, clapping her hands over her mouth in an effort to stay quiet. "How long have you been standing there?" she asks when she finally composes herself.

"A while," he admits, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"I'm still mad at you," she informs him as she heads in the direction of their room, just down the hallway.

"No, you're not. You can never really stay mad at me. You love me too much," his smile is smug.

"Shut up," she snaps. "You were wrong, and I am mad."

He starts singing.

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry

You don't know how lovely you are

I had to find you, tell you I need you

Tell you I set you apart

"Jesse," she scowls, "Singing Coldplay isn't going to get you out of this."

"The Scientist is a great song!" he insists.

She turns away from him, sitting at the foot of their bed. "You really hurt me," she whispers, so softly he almost misses it.

"Beca," he sits next to her, trying to take her hand, but she snatches it away. "I know I acted like a jerk. You know how much I love attention, love to perform. I just got caught up in it is all. I'm sorry."

"You humiliated me in front of our friends just for a few laughs," she corrects.

"You're always ribbing me in front of them," he points out.

"But I do not pick on the one thing I know you're sensitive about," she replies. "You know I was miserable and vulnerable when I was pregnant. I did not need to hear at a social gathering with friends, my very own husband pointing out that I walked like a duck, or resembled a beached whale when I was trying to get out of bed."

"I thought you'd think it was funny. You made those jokes yourself, Bec! Lilly's pregnant and uncomfortable and I was just trying to lighten her spirits."

"At my expense! I told you that you get carried away sometimes, and when you get going, you don't always think about how it might make me feel, Jesse."

"You're right, I didn't. I'm sorry. And for the record, I thought you looked gorgeous carrying my babies."

"I know that," she says quietly, "But you didn't convey that to our friends last night."

"Want me to call them all and tell them right now? Mass email? Group text message? Singing telegram at their doorway complete with balloons and confetti?" his eyes are searching her face.

She tries to hold back a smile, "And what would you sing?"

"I'd sing about how gorgeous and sexy my wife is all the time. It would be borderline obnoxious, really. And then they'd slam the door in my face and we'd have no friends left. Is that what you want, Beca?"

"I hate that I can't be mad at you," she shakes her head at him.

He drops to the floor and kneels before her, looking up at her expectantly, "It's because I'm so adorable," he grins before adding, "Oh yeah, and the love part."

"The love part," she sighs, cupping his face in her hands. "Now come here," she orders, tugging his lips to hers and kissing him lightly. "You're lucky you're so cute."

He moves back in for another kiss, this time tracing his tongue along her bottom lip until she opens her mouth, allowing him access. She lies back on the bed, pulling him with her as he begins kissing a trail down her neck to her collarbone. She tries to sit up to remove her top and grant him better access, but he pins her hands to the mattress with one hand, and begins singing softly into her skin.

There is no one left in the world

Who I can hold onto

He kisses the narrow space between her breasts.

There is really no one left at all

There is only you

He unbuttons her top slowly, opening it to reveal her creamy skin.

And if you leave me now, you leave all that we were undone

There is really no one left, you are the only one

His kisses trail along the hem of her jeans, his fingers pausing on the zipper as he lowers it slowly, pulling the fabric down her legs along with her panties.

And still the hardest part for you, is to put your trust in me

He reaches underneath her, undoing the clasp of her bra leaving her exposed completely to him.

I love you more than I can say

Why won't you just believe?

As he finishes the last line of the song, his lips return to hers.

"I do believe Jesse, I do," she breathes, arching her body into his.

Her hands free, she quickly removes his clothing, pulling his body to hers, trying to bring him as close to her as possible.

She hates fighting with him, but she loves making up.

A/N: The song is Trust by The Cure.