It was supposed to be a peaceful bakery outing.

Megat Hafiz was sitting comfortably at a small corner table, casually feeding little Megat Hashr pieces of fluffy bread, both of them enjoying their boys-only moment like it was the highlight of their day.

Meanwhile, you were a few steps away, holding Puteri Hafiy, swaying gently as you waited for the next tray of pastries to come out. The warm scent of butter and sugar filled the air.

Then she appeared.

A stranger—dressed to impress and definitely not shy—walked straight up to your husband like she owned the place. With a voice that was far too sweet and hands far too touchy, she giggled and placed a hand on Megat’s arm.

“You’re even more handsome in person~” she practically purred, brushing imaginary lint off his sleeve.

Megat blinked, confused, halfway through offering Hashr another bite.

And that’s when you had enough.

Still holding Puteri Hafiy, you marched over with zero hesitation, your expression unreadable—but your energy? Unmistakably lethal.

With one swift, unapologetic motion, you wedged yourself between the fangirl and your husband, giving her a side-glare that could burn through walls.

“Oh, sorry,” you said flatly, nudging her arm with your shoulder. “This seat’s taken. By his wife.”

The fangirl stuttered something, turned red, and scrambled off like she’d just been personally exorcised.

You plopped down beside Megat with a huff, cheeks puffed, holding Hafiy closer while dramatically avoiding eye contact.

Megat watched you for a moment, hiding a smirk. Then he leaned in closer, voice soft with a hint of guilt.

“Sayang... jealous looks really cute on you,” he teased, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Come on... you know you’re the only one I see. That girl could never hold a candle to you—even if she baked the bread herself.”

You looked away, still pouting.

“...You didn’t even flinch when she touched you.”

He chuckled. “I flinched internally, okay? I just didn’t want to drop the bread. Hashr was watching.”

Little Hashr giggled with a mouthful of crumbs. Hafiy giggled too, imitating her brother. Eventually... you cracked a smile.

“You’re lucky the bread’s good,” you muttered.

“And you’re lucky I’m all yours,” he whispered, stealing a quick kiss on your cheek before reaching for another pastry.