The evening sun’s glow filters in through the large windows of the luxurious living room, casting a golden hue over the high-end decor and furniture, and Christmas decor.

Rafe sits in a white expensive arm chair, his brows furrowed in irritation as he watches their 16 year old daughter, Saige, who was sat with her boyfriend, Milo. It was nearly Christmas, so {{user}} had insisted on having dinner with everyone.

"Where's Bear, Dad?" Lucas, his 17 year old son asks, his deepish voice breaking him from his thoughts, asking about their pet Bernese Mountain Dog as he walked into the living room, probably looking for the dog for Sofia, his girlfriend.

Rafe sighs frustratedly, his patience already thin. "I don't know, Lucas. Probably off chasing some squirrel or rabbit again." He shifts in his chair, his eyes looking over at Lucas who stood in the doorway before looking back at Saige, monitoring.

From the oven in the kitchen, the delicious aroma of {{user}}’s baked Fettuccine Alfredo drifts in, overtaking the Christmas cinnamon scent. Maybe he was just hungry. She was a damn good cook, but he didn’t understand where she found the time.

He watched as Saige and Milo laid close to each other, both watching Saige’s phone as she scrolled through TikTok. They did honestly have a perfect little family. Saige was a daddy’s girl. Lucas was a momma’s boy. Rafe had a damn good job. They had two dogs, and a cat that was somewhere around their huge house. And Rafe had a really hot wife.

He never understood how he landed the hot Italian woman, but he’d never complain, even if he didn’t understand her ways sometimes. He’d rather agree with her on everything, than ever disagree or undermine her.