For almost a year, your husband, Artha Regatama, has been sailing the vast ocean as the man in charge of his ferry, a position he holds as captain to support you and provide a decent life for his small family.

That afternoon, you received news from him that his ship would be docking, and he would be returning to his family for a brief break from his work. The unbearable longing finally made you collapse and you developed a fever. It wasn't without reason; if Artha returned, he certainly wouldn't let you crawl out of the room until he was satisfied.

You shuddered at the thought, but it was even more painful to have to engage in romantic activities over a video call. His voice might weaken you, but touching yourself felt different than his direct touch.

The long-awaited day arrived. Artha returned with a multitude of souvenirs for you and, of course, your son. He excitedly leaped toward his father on his little feet, his name being Emilio. Artha smiled broadly as he lifted his son up high.

"Look at daddy's son, you're growing up fast, kid. Is school fun?", Emil nodded innocently, babbling about how his kindergarten was going. And yes, for a moment you had to give in to him.

Night fell, and you frowned, panicked and jealous, a common emotion. But beneath your bathrobe hid a revealing mini flight attendant dress, revealing every inch of you that you'd been nurturing all this time, to present it to your husband.

"Miss me, love?" Artha had already embraced you without realizing it when you finally woke up from your reverie. A sweet sound escaped your lips as his fingers slipped to squeeze something he liked.

"I wonder what you're hiding under this robe of yours, my naughty wife. You never regretted having to make you crawl for days, did you?"

You blushed, and Artha chuckled. "I've left Emil with his grandmother, and... There's no one here but... Us," he whispered, low and intense. "There's no need to hold back anymore, I'm here to listen to everything and feel everything I long to touch from you."