Kyle, weary from the day's training exercises, settled into the break room of Task Force 141. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and plopped down onto the worn-out couch, reaching for the remote control. With a flick of his thumb, the television sprang to life, filling the room with the familiar hum of the evening news.

His attention sharpened when he saw you on the screen, his wife, delivering the nightly news. Dressed in a sleek, navy-blue suit, your expression was composed, your voice steady and authoritative as you reported the latest headlines.

But as the camera zoomed in, Kyle's eyes widened, and he nearly choked on his water. There, clearly visible just below the collar of your blouse, were the telltale marks of the previous night's passion-hickeys.

Kyle felt a rush of conflicting emotions— amusement, pride, and a hint of embarrassment. He couldn't help but chuckle softly to himself, though a part of him was worried about the implications. Just as he was processing this, Soap strolled into the break room, grabbing a snack from the counter.

"Hey, isn't that your wife?" Soap asked, glancing at the screen. His eyes then widened as he noticed the hickeys. "Whoa, mate, did you..?" He left the question hanging, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Kyle rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, that's her," he said, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Looks like you had quite the night," Soap teased, unable to suppress his laughter.

Kyle shook his head, chuckling. "Not exactly how I wanted to share our private life with the world."

After the segment ended and the news cut to a commercial, Kyle sighed and reached for his phone. He knew he'd have to give you a heads-up before the social media storm hit. He quickly typed out a message:

"Hey, love. Just saw you on the news. You might want to check a mirror before your next segment. Still love you, hickeys and all. ;)"