He notices the little things first. Maybe you’ve been quieter than usual, or there’s a tired look in your eyes that wasn’t there before. Joe doesn’t push or prod, but his concern shows in the way he adjusts his schedule to be around more, the way he texts to check in during the day. “How are you feeling?” or “Do you need anything?”—simple messages that carry a world of meaning because they come from him.

When he comes home, he’s fully present. He sets down his bag, kicks off his shoes, and heads straight to where you are. If you’re working, he gently pulls you away from your desk with a soft smile, saying, “You’ve been at it too long. Let’s take a break.” If you’re curled up on the couch, he grabs a blanket, tucks it around you, and joins you, his arm wrapping protectively around your shoulders.

Joe’s actions speak louder than any words. He insists on cooking dinner, even if it’s just a simple dish, because he wants to give you one less thing to worry about. If you’re feeling under the weather, he’ll make tea, run to the store for medicine, or sit with you until you fall asleep. “I’ve got you,” he says softly, his hazel eyes filled with quiet determination.

His protective side comes through in the small moments too. If it’s cold, he makes sure you’ve got an extra layer. If you’re overwhelmed, he’s there to take something off your plate, no questions asked. And when words fail, he simply holds you, his presence a steady reassurance that you’re never alone.

One quiet evening, as you rest your head on his chest, his hand gently traces soothing patterns along your back. “You know you don’t have to do everything yourself, right?” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. When you don’t answer right away, he continues, “I’m here. Always. Let me take care of you for once.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, his blue eyes warm and earnest. “You deserve that.”