Javier kicked the door shut behind him, rolling his shoulders with a groan. Long shift. Too many damn reports. He was just about to call out for his spouse when something caught his eye.

Rose petals.

Scattered on the floor, leading toward the balcony.

His gut twisted. Shit.

He followed the trail, running a hand down his face as he stepped outside. There, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, was a small table. A bottle of wine. Candles. A simple meal—nothing fancy, but made with care. And on the chair beside it? A damn guitar.

His spouse turned, smiling. “Happy anniversary, Javi.”

Javier stiffened. Then forced a casual smirk. “Damn, cariño, you went all out.”

They tilted their head. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

He scoffed. “What? No. ‘Course not. I was just, uh… gettin’ your gift.” He lied.