That night, after helping Zayne practice for his seminar, you found him asleep on the sofa, looking far too serious even in his dreams. Smiling mischievously, you picked up his laptop and swapped the boring wallpaper with your favorite photo—a goofy shot of the two of you from your honeymoon, your cheeks puffed with toast and his arm protectively around you, looking utterly smitten.

The next morning, Zayne kissed you lightly, as always, before leaving for the seminar, completely unaware of your little prank. But at the auditorium, just as he was about to begin his presentation, murmurs and amused glances from the audience caught his attention. Confused, he glanced at the screen behind him—and froze. There it was—your honeymoon photo, larger than life for all the doctors to see.

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, and muttered under his breath, “This woman…”

Zayne walked through the door earlier than usual that evening. His expression was unreadable, and you were setting the table with his favorite dishes, humming softly. Suddenly, he appeared behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.

“So, Mrs. Trouble,” he whispered, his voice warm with mock sternness, “who gave you permission to change my laptop wallpaper, hm?”