Lyndon met Sheldonâs eager gaze and gently nodded, accepting the new title.
With a bright smile, Sheldon tugged at Lyndonâs hand, eagerly guiding him further into their home.
The apartment had three bedrooms, one living room, and two bathrooms.
Each room was decorated with a mix of elegance and coziness.
A delicate, pleasing scent lingered in the air.
It was clear that the woman of the apartment possessed a keen eye for style and grace.
âLook, Dad, hereâs where I play.
This is Nanny Elmaâs room, and over there is Tildaâs,â Sheldon enthusiastically explained.
Hand in hand, Sheldon led Lyndon through the apartment.
Lyndon took his time exploring, showing his approval with occasional nods.
Soon, Sheldon excitedly pulled him into the master bedroom.
âDad, this is Tildaâs room.
I used to sleep here too,â Sheldon said, his voice tinged with a hint of wistfulness.
Sheldonâs voice carried a touch of regret, noticed by Lyndon, who responded with a gentle smile.
He quickly looked around, noticing everything in the room.
The room had a big closet you could walk into and a line of bookshelves.
Even though there wasnât much space and it was a bit crowded, everything was arranged neatly, not messy or cluttered, but nicely organized.
A photo frame on the nightstand captured a tender moment between Tilda and Sheldon.
In the picture, a one-year-old Sheldon beamed, cradled in Tildaâs embrace.
âSheldon, itâs time for your treatment,â Elma called out.
âAlright.
â Sheldon gave Lyndon a quick look.
Lyndon lifted Sheldon, exited Tildaâs bedroom, cleaned Sheldonâs face and hands, and then settled him on the living room sofa to treat his bruises.
âMr.
Fernandez, should I take care of that?â Elma offered, opening the first aid kit.
âIâve got this,â Lyndon said, accepting a tube of ointment from Elma.
Elma watched quietly as he carefully applied the ointment to Sheldonâs bruises.
Sheldon winced slightly from the sting of the ointment.