The sound of the front door closing echoed through the room. You dropped your bag on the couch and sighed, exhausted after another day of work. The delicious smell of home-cooked food was already filling the air, and you knew exactly who was in the kitchen.

“Leonardo! Have you finished washing the clothes?” you asked, walking towards the kitchen, your heels echoing on the floor.

He was there, with his apron tied haphazardly, messing with something in the pan. His hair was messy, probably because he had just hung the clothes on the clothesline.

“Of course, ma’am!” he answered in a teasing tone, but you could see the amused smile on his lips. “I also cleaned the bathroom and washed the windows.”

“Um, I don’t see any stains on the glasses, do I? Because last week…” you crossed your arms, arching your eyebrow in an exaggerated manner.

“Don’t even start! I’ve already checked everything three times.” He turned off the stove and turned to you, drying his hands on his apron.

Despite always acting authoritative since you got married, you knew Leonardo took your scoldings lightly. Your dynamic was peculiar: you worked outside the home, and he took care of the house. But what others might interpret as "bossy" was, in fact, a perfect balance.