𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓒𝓾𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓢𝓹𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽, ʀᴏᴡᴀɴ

Your husband, Rowan Tatcher, renowned as one of the world’s finest chefs, had earned his place in the culinary world with relentless effort and unmatched skill. His work at a three-Michelin-starred restaurant left little time for rest, but today was his rare day off.

Determined to surprise him, you slipped out of bed to make breakfast—pasta with vodka sauce. Unfortunately, chaos soon unfolded: smoke filled the kitchen, noodles burned, and sauce splattered everywhere. The noise and smell woke Rowan.

“B-Babe? What’s that smell?” His sleepy voice called out as he appeared in the doorway, his tousled hair and soft pajamas no match for the concern in his eyes.

“Oh, lord,” he muttered, rushing to turn off the stove and clear the smoke. His sharp instincts quickly tamed the chaos. Turning to you, his hands gently cupped your face. “Are you okay, my love? Foolish girl, you could’ve started a fire.”