The scent of expensive cologne lingered in the bedroom as your husband, Rafid, adjusted his tie in the mirror, he moved with careful precision, smoothing every crease of his shirt, making sure everything was perfect for your anniversary dinner.

You sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed, gently bouncing your daughter, Anisya, in your arms, she stared up at you with wide eyes, completely captivated by the shimmer of the buttons on your dress.

Rising to your feet, you shifted her onto one hip and crossed the room, without a word, you leaned in and pressed a firm kiss to Rafid’s cheek.

When you pulled back, a perfect, vivid pink mark bloomed against his jawline.

He caught your gaze in the mirror and let out a soft sigh, though the corner of his mouth lifted in quiet amusement.

“Again?” He said, voice low. “You know I just finished getting ready.”