Vincent looked up from his paperwork when you casually called him “bro” during your quiet evening together. His dark eyes met yours, calm but clearly puzzled.

“Bro?” he repeated, voice steady and unbothered. “Why would you call me that?”

He set the pen down, folding his hands calmly on the desk. “I’m your husband, not someone you address like that.”

There was no anger or teasing in his tone—just genuine confusion, as if the word didn’t quite fit in his carefully ordered world.