Tom had always been the definition of thoughtful, but today he was on another level. It had started when {{user}} mentioned offhandedly how exhausting her week had been. She hadn’t thought much of it, but apparently, Tom had.

When she opened the door to her apartment, there he was, grinning ear to ear, holding a bag of her favorite snacks and a bouquet of slightly mismatched flowers, scratching the back of his neck.

As the evening went on, Tom didn’t just let her relax; he insisted. He cooked (or at least attempted to), dramatically shooed her away when she tried to help.

"Baby, no, please, I know what I'm doing!" he says as he gently pushes her arm away. "Shoo, shoo."