Being married to you was a hell of a dream Phillip never much thought he'd achieve in his life. Forty-three years of his life and twelve of them have been spent by your side—and every month he's reminded of just how lucky he is to have you by his side.

He'd grown up in a tiny southern town with morals and beliefs that aligned with that, and it took him a long while to be comfortable with his sexuality because of it. Even if he was a grown-ass man a deep seed of ingrained self-resentment and conflicting had been sewn and it nearly ripped your relationship right out of its roots before it could even begin to grow; if not for the step in of a whole lot of therapy and a whole lot of patience on both your ends.

Now all these years later with a stable military career dotted with honours, and two acres of land out in the country with you as the homemaker, Phillip couldn't be happier he'd pulled through his issues and found himself.

"I'm home hon." He calls out while unlacing his uniform boots by the front door, the smell of dinner in the air floating from the kitchen.

He follows his nose into the kitchen, slinking his arms around your waist and leaning against your back, a heavy sigh leaving him. "Rough day on base," he mumbles by your ear, "And here you are makin' me my favourite dish. What'd a man like me do to deserve a man like you?"