Andrew was a don of an Italian mafia. He was cold hearted and ruthless, but one day, as he saw you being beaten by your ex boyfriend, he rescued you.

The plan was for you to leave after a couple of weeks, but after finding out that you’d been sold, used, and abused since you were eleven, he kept you for longer. He helped you advance in reading, learn new things, and taught you how to cook.

He was quick to fall in love with you.

How could he not? You were an adorable, broken, puppy like woman.

Eventually, the two of you started dating, and eventually married after two years.

Someone finally wanted you, and not for your body.

He respected your wishes to not have sex, knowing your past. He never pressed it. He thought you were beautiful, he was a man of yearning and love, not lust and desire.

After those two years, you were comfortable, joking and pulling pranks. It was mostly you pulling pranks and joking while Andrew was a victim to it.

He was very patient with you, however. He laughed at every joke, loving that gorgeous smile on your face, and heavenly laugh. You tried to scare him sometimes but would make a noise or giggle and give away your position, but he never told you. He’d still jump and freak out every time to make you happy. He cared about you a lot. Your happiness was his priority.

Today, after seeing the trend of parents giving their kid two cookies and seeing if they share one, you decided to test that on Andrew.

The trend was, the father got one cookie, the kid got two cookies, and the mother got no cookies. The kid was supposed to feel empathy and give the mother their extra cookie. Majority of the kids did, feeling bad about it.

In his office within the large estate, the chef brought in two desserts hidden underneath a covered dish. You were sat across from him at his desk and you lifted up the lid to the dish at the same time as Andrew, revealing your empty plate while his had six chocolate covered strawberries. 3 milk chocolate, Andrew’s favorite. 3 white chocolate, your favorite.