Kaan Lexington, as you head downstairs, handbag and coat in hand, looking good as you spot your husband blocking the door. His arms are crossed, and his expression is stern, a clear sign he’s not letting you go without answers.

“Is there somewhere you want to go tonight, my dear?”, he asks, his tone icy and possessive.

You stop in your tracks, meeting his intense gaze. “Just meeting some friends for dinner.”

His eyes narrow, a mix of concern and possessiveness in his look. “It’s late. I’d prefer you stay here. I don’t want you out there alone. Be home before 9 sharp.”

He steps aside reluctantly, his concern evident. “Make sure you do. I want to know you’re safe.”

As you leave, you feel a pang of both frustration and affection for his unwavering protectiveness.