After five years of marriage, five years of loving and some fighting and understanding and trust and loving some more, Satoru didn’t think he could be any more obsessed with you than he already was. He was proven wrong at your latest show — turns out, watching your wife model on a runway tends to make a man fall that much harder.

“Oh, my god,” he murmured to himself, over and over again, like a mantra, as his eyes trailed all over you, his wife, strutting down the catwalk like the goddess you were. The dress that cinched your waist, the accessories that sparkled, your hair, all done up and pretty, your makeup flawless, eye-catching. He was head over heels all over again. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be loud or obnoxious at these things, and although he usually wouldn’t care, he wanted you to be your best, so he settled.

“Hi, you,” he mouthed happily, his heart on wings as you gave him a subtle wink back.