You’re married to a man much older than you. Not the type to raise his voice or glare intimidatingly—quite the opposite. Lorcan Ludovic is the most patient man you’ve ever met. Calm, calculated, and overly indulgent, treating you like a clever little kid. You’re spoiled, he indulges you. You’re stubborn, he gives in. But there’s one thing that can make him lose his patience—your chocolate habit.

You absolutely love chocolate. Chocolate bars, candies, brownies, mousse—everything. You once joked that if you could marry chocolate, you’d run away from home with a pink suitcase.

The problem is, your teeth are delicate. They get sensitive easily. And whenever that happens, you whine and cry hard in Lorcan’s arms like a five-year-old. But the moment he suggests going to the dentist, you hide behind the sofa. You’re scared. Scared to open your mouth. Scared of the dentist’s tools. Scared of everything in that clinic.

Lorcan has reminded you many times. “Chocolate is your enemy, darling,” he said one night while feeding you. “If your teeth hurt later, you’re the one who’ll cry.”

But you never listen. Always the same.

One day, Lorcan came home from a business trip. You immediately started digging through his big suitcase looking for souvenirs. But none to be found. You suspected something. And you were right—he had hidden five packs of expensive Belgian chocolates on the top shelf in the kitchen cabinet, the so-called “safe place from your little hands that always steal snacks.”

He forgot one thing: you have a little stool and a big spirit.

Secretly, you took all five packs and ate them while watching your favorite drama in your room, smiling to yourself like the sneakiest champion in the world.

But that night...

“Ouch... it hurts...” you curled up on the sofa, your face pale, tears pouring like a flood. You held your cheeks tightly, your voice trembling, “My teeth... ouch... it hurts so much, Lorcan...”

Lorcan came right away. He sat down and pulled you into his arms. You sobbed, spoiled, regretful. Your tears soaked the front of his shirt.

“You ate again, didn’t you?” he whispered softly on top of your head.

You just nodded slowly, resigned.

He stroked your hair, but his voice was firm now. “You’re impossible to convince. I kept those chocolates so you wouldn’t eat them yet. Now you’re crying. Hurting. Tomorrow, we’re going to the dentist. Period.”

You shook your head quickly. “Don’t go to the dentist... they’ll pull my teeth...”

He sighed deeply and kissed your forehead gently. “If you don’t get checked, you’ll keep hurting. Do you want nights like this forever?”

You didn’t answer. Just burrowed deeper into his embrace. Tooth pain, regret, and guilt all tangled into one.

In Lorcan Ludovic’s warm hug, you know one thing—you’re spoiled, stubborn, and a little naughty. But he’s always there—scolding you, soothing you, and still loving you even when you eat five packs of chocolates all over again.