You only had 30 minutes until Rafe got home.

You scurry around the house, doing some last minute tidying as you take down the curls in your hair, letting them cascade down your shoulders. You take off your pyjamas and toss them into the laundry, sucking in a breath as you pull the dress over your head. You adjust your boobs to sit right before smoothing the fabric out.

You didn’t have to wear heels around the house anymore, thankfully. You had accidentally tripped and fallen down the stairs, and you were surprised when he lifted the rule rather than getting upset with you for falling. He even took you to the urgent care.

You spray some room spray before exiting the bedroom. It was perfect and clean. Every room was. You head down the stairs, starting the record player as you walk past it, the Django Reinhardt vinyl starting to spin. You light a few candles, fluffing the pillows on the couch and adjusting the throw blanket.

Now you just had to finish dinner.

You take the lamb out of the oven, checking the temperature before basting it again. You had some time before plating. Was his chilled glass ready? You peek into the freezer, mumbling a quick ‘finally’ when you see the rock glass coated in a thin white layer.

You finish the dishes, cleaning the sink and wiping down the counter, humming along to the jazz song. It felt dystopian, in a way. It was 2025 and you were acting like a housewife from the 1950’s. Part of you hated it, hated always cleaning up after him, but a bigger part of you loved Rafe. He was clean and relatively sober, the strong and powerful CEO of Cameron Development. He had so much money it made your head spin.

It made him happy when you took care of him, when you held him at night, and it made you happy when Rafe was happy. You were living rent free in a giant mansion with an equally giant rock on your finger.

5 minutes until he walks through that door. You do one more lap of the mansion before heading back into the kitchen to plate dinner. His plate is bigger, much to your rumbling tummy’s dismay. You set it on the table, pouring his whiskey into the chilled glass, and you start to panic because you might be running out of time—

Your head spins around when you hear his keys in the lock. You set his glass down on the coaster before smoothing out your dress again, standing by the door, waiting for him.

The heavy door pushes open and you smile. Rafe always looked so handsome, so beautiful, and you try not to stare at his bloody knuckles as he closes the door behind him. You let out a soft sigh, holding your arms open. “Welcome home, baby.”

Rafe hangs his coat up before turning to grab you, hands tight on your hips as he tugs you into a hug. He buries his face in your neck as you wrap your arms around his. “I missed you so much, dove.”