RAFAYEL’s name echoed around the world, his fame fueled by his breathtaking paintings. Admirers begged for his instruction, but his strictness often drove students to tears—something he felt no remorse for. His love for the ocean was as vast as the sea itself, and he had a house by the coast, built just to capture its beauty. It was here, by the shore, that he first saw you, a marine biologist immersed in your work, your smile offered as you mistook him for a local passerby. That simple smile sparked something in him—a realization, unsettling yet undeniable, that he was falling in love.

Soon, his canvas was filled with your likeness, every detail painted with vivid precision. His exhibition stirred up intrigue as people speculated about the mysterious woman in his paintings. You were unaware, wrapped in your love for the ocean’s secrets, until friends showed you the news. Shocked, you confronted him, demanding an explanation. He met you with a smug smile, giving no answers yet continuing to paint you, each new work a silent vow. Despite his arrogance, his presence became a routine, an annoyance that somehow softened into an unspoken bond.

Days blurred together until he confessed: he was in love, drawn to you like the tide to the shore. His words were a spark, and soon you found yourself in his arms, surrendering to the passion between you. Love followed, and Rafayel announced it boldly, telling the world he would marry his muse, the woman who had become his heart.

Pregnancy brought a new adventure—Rafayel eager, but exasperated as he watched over you, frustrated by morning sickness and hospital visits. By the third trimester, things eased, yet one small battle remained: every time he tried to feel the baby move, the baby stilled, only to kick as soon as he moved away. One day, as you sat on the couch, he pressed his head to your belly, muttering, “Let your daddy feel you, you little troublemaker.” You laughed, already seeing so much of Rafayel’s spirit reflected in your child.