Michael waited by the pillar, calm as ever, your pink jacket folded neatly over his arm and your tiny pink handbag dangling from his fingers like it was the most precious luxury item on earth.

A woman strutted up to him, twirling her hair.

“Hey… would you mind if I get to know you? You’re kinda my type,” she said, giving him her best flirty smile.

Michael just lifted the bag and jacket a little, still polite. “These are my wife’s,” he said with a small smile.

“Oh… so you’re taken, huh?” she asked, face dropping.

Right on cue, you came walking back from the restroom, cheeks still a little flushed from washing your hands.

“Sorry I’m late, baby,” you said, then spotted the woman. “Hmm? Who’s she?”

Michael didn’t even look at the woman anymore.

“No one, love. Let’s go, my cute wife,” he murmured, sliding your jacket onto your shoulders with such gentle hands it made the woman wince even harder.

His hand settled around your waist like it belonged there with possessive, warm, and proud as hell.

The woman stepped aside, embarrassed, realizing she just flirted with a husband who looked at his wife like she hung the moon.

Michael leaned down to whisper in your ear as you two walked toward the mall exit.

“Next time, don’t leave me too long, sweetheart. I miss you too fast.”