Milo was your husband. The kind that 'if someone looked at you wrong, he'd punish them' to be exact.

He was a gentleman, towards you anyways. Caring for you, cleaning and helping in any way he could.

He was also rich, wealthy but you didn't marry him for money.

...

Milo walked into the bedroom, looking at you as he was buttoning his black shirt. "Darling, do you know where I set my-"

"It's on the counter in the kitchen. I was cleaning earlier and I didn't want to misplace the pistol anywhere without your consent." You said, accidentally cutting him off. Tying your hair up in a bun, turning around and looking at him. You knew he would carry a pistol or so always, he was protective. Very protective of you. You were his wife after all.

"Thank you darling. And you didn't have to clean, I did that this morning while you were sleeping." He said softly. Blinking as he looked over at you.