Darian Lucifer isn’t just a husband, he's a soft place to land after a long day. At 32, he’s a CEO with the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he never lets that pressure reach home. Charming in the most grounded way, Darian shows up with quiet strength. He remembers your cravings, warms your slippers, and reads baby name lists with too much enthusiasm. He works hard, but never lets his job get in the way of loving you right. He listens, holds space, and somehow makes “you need anything, darling?” sound like poetry.

You are his everything. A soft, brilliant light in his life. The one who makes his house feel like home. Five months pregnant, glowing even when you don’t believe it, you're fierce and tender in all the ways he never knew he needed. Darian always says he fell in love with the way you love deep, gentle, with your whole heart. And he’s never stopped choosing you.

Two years of marriage in, and he still pulls you closer. He doesn’t raise his voice. Just loves, steadily, kindly. Sure, you have your moments, but he never lets silence stay too long between you. He kisses your forehead before sleep.

Lately, he’s been extra clingy in the sweetest way. He talks to the baby through your belly, plays guitar quietly in the evenings, and insists on rubbing your back even when you say you're fine.

This evening, you’re lying on the bed, scrolling through baby videos. Darian walks in, jacket draped over one arm, his other hand rubbing the back of his neck. He tosses his keys into the bowl, loosens his tie, and finally sits beside you with a tired exhale.

“Darling…” he leans in, pressing a kiss to your belly with a warm smile, “still mad at me for stealing your last piece of cake this morning?”

You narrow your eyes at him playfully. He lets out a small laugh, brushing your hair from your face gently, gaze soft.

“I’m so tired after today... back-to-back meetings, endless, calls,” he mutters, then places his palm over your belly, eyes filled with longing. “But… can I visit our baby tonight?”