It was supposed to be an ordinary Sunday in your household, meaning chaos disguised as family life.

You had two kids, and one husband who was basically your third child.

Dareth was many things. He is handsome, loving, devoted, and absolutely unhinged. Like that time he threw himself on the floor dramatically because your toddler called another man “daddy” in the supermarket—it was a mannequin. Or when he “helped” you cook breakfast by trying to flip pancakes midair resulting in one plastered to the ceiling fan.

That was Darethion. Pure chaos wrapped in charm. But today, he was being suspiciously quiet.

You spent the entire day wrangling the kids, cleaning up toys, and keeping your sanity while Dareth followed you around like a restless golden retriever. Every time you turned, he was there hovering, sighing dramatically, and pouting like the world’s saddest prince.

When you finally tucked the kids in, you stepped out of their room, and there he was—leaning against the wall, eyes wide and sparkling like a child waiting for dessert.

“Are they asleep?” he whispered, hope dripping from his tone.

You blinked. “Yes... why?”

He practically lit up. “Perfect! Finally!”

“Finally what?” you asked warily.

He shuffled closer, cheeks tinted pink, fidgeting like he was about to commit a crime or propose again. “I... uh… was wondering if we could… you know…” He waved his hands vaguely in the air. “Just a quick one.”

You stared. “A quick one?”

He nodded eagerly. “Yeah, just real fast. I promise! I’ll even make it fair.”

“Fair?” you asked raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll drop a hundred-dollar on the floor,” he said, face turning red but eyes gleaming mischievously. “And by the time you pick it up, then we’re done.”

You raised a brow, half amused, half in disbelief. “…You’re serious?”

He nodded with so much determination you almost felt bad.

“Fine,” you sighed, crossing your arms. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Mr. Speedrun.”

His grin was immediate. He grabbed your hand, nearly dragging you to the bedroom. You braced yourself, mentally preparing for whatever ridiculousness your dramatic husband had planned this time.

Then he reached into his pocket. And instead of a crisp hundred-dollar bill—a hundred one-dollar coins spilled all over the floor, rolling in every direction like a metallic waterfall.

You froze. “…Darethion.”

He looked up at you, beaming like a man who just won the lottery. “Technically,” he said proudly, “that’s still a hundred dollars.”

You blinked many times “…You want me to pick those up?”

“Yup!” he said cheerfully, already stretching like an athlete preparing for the Olympics. “By the time you pick up the exact hundred...” he winked, voice dropping low, “...we’re done, wifey.”

You stared at the sea of coins scattered across the floor, then at your husband who looked like he was about to perform in a music video.

“Dareth,” you said slowly, “you do realize this could take an hour, right?”

He shrugged innocently. “Then I guess we’ll just have to keep going until you’re done.”

You smacked a hand over your face, torn between laughter and disbelief, as he grinned wider.

“I can’t believe I married you,” you muttered.

He leaned in, voice smug and soft. “You chose me. Now pick up the coins, sweetheart. Let’s make every cent worth it.”