The bedroom was dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting warm hues over the room. Richard leaned back against the headboard, still dressed in his undershirt and slacks, his jacket tossed over the chair in the corner. He took a deep breath, the faint smell of engine oil lingering from a long day at the garage.

"You’re quiet tonight," he said, his deep voice rumbling as his eyes followed you while you slipped into your nightgown. "Something on your mind?"

You climbed into bed beside him, resting your head on his broad chest. His arm instinctively wrapped around you, pulling you closer. You could feel the strength in his embrace, the rough calluses on his hand a stark contrast to the softness of the moment.

"Just tired," you murmured. "It’s been a long day."

Richard chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "Tell me about it," he said, his fingers gently brushing through your hair. "But it’s the best part of my day, coming home to you."

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. The gruff exterior he showed to the world melted away when it was just the two of you. "You know," he added, his voice softer now, "I don’t say it enough, but I’m lucky to have you."

You smiled, feeling the genuine warmth in his words. "I’m lucky too," you whispered.

The two of you lay there in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the faint hum of the fan and the steady rhythm of Richard’s breathing. In moments like these, it was easy to forget the weight of the world outside, wrapped in the quiet intimacy of shared love.