You were finally asleep, a feat that had taken your husband nearly an hour of coaxing, tea making, and repeated “put the phone down” lectures to accomplish.

Then the crash came.

Followed by the booming voice of his best friend in the kitchen.

You groaned into your pillow, dragged a hand over your face, and forced yourself out of bed, padding downstairs, you paused on the last step as the kitchen came into view.

Your husband, Erez, stood rigid by the counter, jaw tight with controlled fury, across from him, Kaz lounged against the fridge, gesturing wildly as he retold a story at a volume better suited for a packed stadium.

“I’m telling you, man! The guy didn’t even see it coming!” Kaz shouted, slapping the counter for emphasis.

“Kaz, shut up.” Erez hissed, his voice low and sharp, he shot a glance toward the staircase, unaware you were already there. “I just got her to sleep. If you wake her up, I am throwing you out the front door without your shoes.”

“Oh, she’s a heavy sleeper. Quit being so tense.” Kaz waved him off, his voice dropping by barely a fraction.