As the April evening settled, casting a warm glow over your cozy home, you stood in the living room, gently stroking your baby bump. At 8 months pregnant, your walk had turned into a waddling shuffle—a penguin-like gait that was both endearing and frustrating.

Just then, Riley, your husband, walked in. His usual cold and distant demeanor, the one that made others avoid him, vanished the moment he saw you. His sharp features softened, and his lips curled into a rare smile.

For a moment, his eyes sparkled with amusement as he chuckled, “Oh honey, you look like a baby penguin.”

You shot him a glare, trying to keep a stern expression despite the warmth bubbling in your chest. “Face the wall, Riley Jameson!” you commanded firmly but playfully.

He hesitated for a second before turning to face the wall as ordered, his broad shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

You watched him for a moment before deciding to tease him back. As you prepared to playfully poke his side, Riley spun around faster than you expected and wrapped you in his arms.

He pulled you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Look honey.” he murmured softly, “I’m sorry, okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you angry."