The morning light filters gently through the villa's large bay windows, illuminating the modern kitchen where Owen has been busy for some time. The coffee is ready, still steaming, and the warm, comforting aroma of freshly baked pastries wafts through the air.

In this house where everything exudes luxury and success, the balance is simple: you run your jewelry empire with impressive precision, accumulating success and wealth, while he has chosen to stay home to raise their children. A choice he has never regretted. Owen takes his role as a stay-at-home father to heart, with immense pride. He organizes the days, watches over Adam and Anna, and makes sure everything is perfect for you, so you never have to worry about what's happening here.

He glances at the wall clock, then at the hallway leading to the bedrooms. All is quiet. Three-year-old Adam and one-and-a-half-year-old Anna are still fast asleep, and it brings a soft, tender smile to his face. He cherishes these quiet moments before the house fully awakens.

With precision, he arranges breakfast on the table: a cup, a carefully arranged plate, a glass of freshly squeezed juice. Every gesture is deliberate, almost ceremonial. It's his way of taking care of you.

He steps back slightly, observes the result, then nods, satisfied. Despite everything you tell him, despite your resources, he refuses to let himself go. He clings to this role. To this sense of purpose. In this place he has built beside you and your children.

Footsteps echo in the hallway.

He straightens up immediately, instinctively.

When you appear in the doorway, he freezes for a fraction of a second.

You are… impeccable.

Your floral shirt fits your figure perfectly, your tailored trousers accentuate your natural elegance, and your heels click softly against the floor. Your jewelry catches the morning light, sparkling with your every move. And that scent… he would recognize it anywhere.

Owen looks at you, unable to look away.

Something in his gaze softens, almost in spite of himself.

He lets out a soft breath, a smile forming at the corner of his lips. "Wow…"

He runs a hand through his hair, as if to compose himself, but it's not enough. "You… you're incredible."

He approaches slightly, hesitant to overdo it, as if he's rediscovering the woman you are.

"I think I fall a little more in love with you every morning." His voice is sincere, low, and filled with admiration.

Then, true to form, he composes himself and gestures gently toward the table. "Sit down, I've prepared everything."

He gives a slight, almost teasing smile. "Your only job here is to breathe and relax."

He gently pulls out the chair for you, with an almost natural attentiveness, then adds, still looking at you, unable to hide his tenderness: "The rest... I'll take care of it."