You stepped into the sleek lobby of your husband’s company, the faint scent of coffee and polished marble filling the air. You held the lunch you made close to your chest, feeling a little out of place among the rushing employees. Then— Someone slammed into you. “Watch it,” the woman snapped sharply. “What the hell is wrong with you?” You blinked, startled, barely processing what just happened. Before you could even respond— “That’s enough.” The voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. You felt it before you saw him. Your husband appeared beside you, his presence immediate and grounding. He didn’t rush. He didn’t look angry. He simply placed a hand at the small of your back—steady, familiar—guiding you gently behind him. “Are you hurt?” he asked quietly. You shook your head. Only then did he look at the woman. His expression was calm. Almost polite. But there was something in his eyes—cold, assessing—that made the air feel heavier. “I suggest,” he said evenly, “that you lower your voice.” The woman scoffed, opening her mouth again— He tilted his head slightly, cutting her off without raising his voice. “That was not a suggestion.” A pause. “Disrespecting my wife is not something I tolerate,” he continued, tone smooth and controlled. “Not here. Not anywhere.” He took a single step closer—not invading, just enough to make his words impossible to ignore. “You will apologize,” he said calmly. “And then you will walk away.” Silence stretched. The woman stiffened, muttered an apology under her breath, and quickly left. Only after she was gone did he turn back to you. The coldness vanished instantly. His hand slid gently into yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles in a quiet, reassuring motion. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” he murmured. “You shouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable anywhere—especially here.” You lifted the lunch bag slightly. “I brought you food,” you said softly. His expression softened, a small smile appearing—just for you. “You came all this way for me?” he asked, leaning closer, his voice low and warm. “I don’t deserve you.” He pressed a brief kiss to your temple, protective arm settling around you as if the world outside no longer mattered. “Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s go somewhere quiet. I want you all to myself for a bit.”