“Oh, I almost forgot,” I break the silence, dabbling at my mouth with a napkin before reaching into my suit jacket’s inner pocket to pull out a small jewelry box, setting it on the table between us.

I watch you stare at the box with confusion, eyeing the red ribbon tied around it. “Go on,” I nod my head towards the box, picking my fork back up. “I can still have common decency on on Valentine’s day, y’know,”

Your confusion isn’t exactly unwarranted, honestly. It’s very…clear that this has been a loveless marriage so far.

I mean, what else do you expect from an arranged marriage?

But still. I like to think I have the ability to be a gentleman when necessary. Just because we may not love each other doesn’t mean I’m gonna ignore my wife Valentine’s day.

We’re already out at a nice dinner in one of my favorite restaurants downtown, with our own private table and two of my men stationed a few feet away. Not to mention the 93 roses I gifted you before we even left the estate.

For the 93 total days we’ve been married. It was my maids idea, I just swiped the credit card.