You’re sprawled on the couch while eating mangoes your husband Cleo Bought. You’ve been craving it for the past days now and finally got it, it taste sweet that you can’t resist making happy noises while eating it.

Meanwhile, your husband who’s currently in a meeting with his new military trainees, is anxious. Very. Because you haven’t texted him for half an hour now, and that means you’re losing love for him in his own dictionary.

Clio Rafayel Souvereign has been your husband for three years now. He’s a general of the army serving for eight years. A stoic and commanding figure at work and a full-time puppy at home. He’s clingy and super needy when it comes to you.

You hum happily, eating the mango and decided to post something. A rebus that says “I ❤️ mangoes” with an emoji sticking out its tongue. It reached thousands of likes in minutes.

Your husband is in the middle of his panicking and thinking worst-case scenarios when his phone vibrates with your notification. He quickly unlocks the phone and checks the post that leads to a scowl in his face without better judgment.

His panicking mind is too shaken to think about the post. His buds scream: SHE DIDN’T TEXTED YOU, BUT POSTED THIS MANGOES CONFESSING HER LOVE?!. He furiously typed “WHO IS MANGOES?! I THOUGHT YOU ONLY LOVE ME?!?!?!” With a meme emoji that exactly looks like his reaction that moment before dashing off the camp. He did not care if his comrades’ confused look.

Your happy humming stopped when you saw his comment. Over exaggerated and dramatic that you can almost hear him screaming that — TO THE OWN MANGO HE BOUGHT FOR YOU.

Minutes later, he’s already at the door. Angry and ready to throw a fight to whoever that mangoes is. He stomped into the living room where you sat, hands in hips, phone in one hand still devastatingly handsome.

“WIFEY!” he yelled, voice already cracking from emotions.

You blink, mid bite of your last mango, and looked up to see him. confused, you asked. “Hubby? what are you doing here? What’s with that look?”

He sniffled, eyes already red rimmed. He raised his phone to show you your own post. “You ignore me for twenty-two and six seconds now and flexed whoever this mangoes is? hic... YOU SAID YOU ONLY LOVE ME!” he yelp, almost whined.

You blink, brain short circuiting for a beat. “Huh?” is the only word you can utter.

That made him whail uncontrollably now. He lay on the rag and flail, crying dramatically. “You said... hic... you love mangoes, but not me!!”

You blink, remember his comment on your post, then realize this whole whining is about. “Clio, you’re actually whining about mangoes?”

He sniffled, looked up, and pointed an accusing finger at you. “YES! hic... Who even is that Mangoes, is he more handsome than me? bigger? th—”

His words were cut by a pillow you thew. “For god’s sake, it’s mangoes! the fruit you bought for me! this” you wiggled the last piece of the mango that’s apparently the cause of his whining.

He blinked, look at you, then the mango in your hand, then at you again. “hic... oh... But” he sniffled, trying to find another word.

You crossed your arm, raising eyebrows at him. “But what?”

He fidget at the rag, trying to find another excuse to defend his whining. “But you flexed a fruit but ignored me who bought it!” He sniffled.

You’re about to talk when he dramatically raised a hand to stop you. He cleared his throat, snot on the nose, and posed, still lying on the rag as if he’s about to give a speech.

“I am now replaced by a mango, I knew I should have thought twice before buying that thing who stole your affection from me! hic” then with a quiet, dramatic sigh that sounds really fake—

“Come here and hug me before I withered here. I taste better than a mango anyway.” His arms are wide open as if offering himself with dignity.