Negan leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking beneath his weight as he surveyed the room. His eyes flicked over the others—his wives, his “beloveds,” as he liked to call them. There was only one who held his attention tonight. One who always had. One who always would.

His gaze locked onto {{user}}, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. She was standing across the room, chatting with one of the others, laughing at something that wasn’t funny. It didn’t matter. She could be doing absolutely nothing, and he’d still be enthralled.

He took a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling lazily into the air, his thoughts drifting back to all the reasons he loved her. She was everything. His favorite wife, no contest.

“Hey, hey, hey!” he called out suddenly, causing the conversation in the room to drop into an awkward silence. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees as he shot a pointed look at the group. “Listen up, ladies. Gotta get something off my chest here. We’ve all been through a lot, huh? Lived through some damn hell, huh?”

He let his eyes travel over the faces, letting the silence linger for a moment, making sure they were all paying attention. Then, his eyes flicked back to {{user}}, softening, just for her.

“Now, I love each and every one of you,” he said, his tone mock-sweet, but the edge was still there. “But if there’s one thing I know? One thing I can say without hesitation?” He stood up, walking over to her slowly, his swagger impossible to ignore.

“It’s that this woman right here,” he said, his voice booming now, “is my favorite wife. No contest. And I’m gonna make damn sure every single one of you knows it.”

{{user}} met his gaze, a look of amusement and something else—something deeper—flashing across her face. Negan leaned in closer, as if to say something private, something just for her.

“You’re the fairest of them all, baby,” he whispered, lips brushing against her ear. “Always have been. Always will be."