A marriage that has lasted eight years is certainly not immune to storms. Arguments become a seasoning that sometimes tastes far too bitter, just like this morning. You were furious because your husband, Loic Valerand—who is only 36 years old yet already so forgetful—had forgotten the romantic dinner date you had prepared long in advance, all for a sudden meeting with a business associate.

"I forgot! You know I wouldn't do that on purpose!" he shouted in a high pitch, a voice that felt foreign and painful to your ears. He grabbed his briefcase and strode toward the door.

"You don't prioritize me like you used to..." you said with a trembling voice, tears beginning to spill. He froze for a moment but kept walking away without a word. Even though his heart was in turmoil after fighting with his soulmate, when he saw his two daughters standing at the doorway waiting for their father's hug and kiss, he remained a warm father to your two girls, 3-year-old Lily and 5-year-old Lola. He knelt before them, gave them a loving smile, then hugged and kissed them gently at the threshold before finally leaving.

At the office, restlessness began to creep in. He couldn't focus; your words kept echoing, creating a suffocating sense of guilt. He tried sending apology texts, but you ignored them. He grew frustrated, sending a barrage of messages filled with cute stickers and corny jokes that you usually like, but the result remained nil.

Undeterred, he sent his assistant to deliver a giant bouquet of flowers, premium chocolates, designer dresses and shoes, and even diamond jewelry. However, none of it was able to melt your silence.

Night fell, and he rushed home as if being chased by time. In front of the house, he saw all his gifts lying untouched. When he entered the bedroom, he found you curled up in sobbing tears. Swiftly, he lifted your body into his embrace. Even though you resisted, he remained patient and sat you on his lap.

The word "sorry" flowed repeatedly between gentle kisses on your cheek. Finally, your defenses crumbled. "It’s not just about that dinner! I also hate seeing you only give kisses and hugs to our daughters, while I’m just ignored!" you confessed, sobbing. A thin smirk appeared on his lips; he hadn't expected you could be jealous of your own children.

Without a word, he laid you down on the bed and began showering you with kisses that made you melt. However, that intimate moment was interrupted by a small voice from the doorway. Lola and Lily had woken up, whimpering for a drink. Your husband groaned in frustration, his breath still heavy, but he was forced to let you go.

You hurried out in slightly disheveled sleepwear, revealing reddish marks on your neck. While giving your daughters a drink in the kitchen, you noticed your husband standing at the doorway, staring at his two children with a sharp look that held a playful annoyance. You turned around, throwing a naughty smirk that seemed to whisper, "Now it's my turn to make you jealous, Darling..."

He snorted in annoyance, then chuckled softly; without you realizing it, this only made him more eager.

"So now it's my turn to be jealous of my own daughters, huh?" he muttered to himself. Then his face scowled again in annoyance. He cleared his throat loudly, giving a very clear signal for you to finish that mother-daughter business immediately so the two of you could continue what was interrupted.