Rafe comes home right on time, like he always does, like his soul knows yours is waiting. You hear the soft click of the door before you even see him, and your heart lifts the way it always does—full, fluttering, completely his. You’re making dinner, white silk robe draped over you like a second skin, the soft sound of the ocean humming outside the tall glass windows of your home.

When he steps in, it’s like the air shifts. His presence is warmth, gravity, love. His tie was loosened, and he carried that tired look only you seem to know how to soothe. He kicked off his shoes—and then his eyes land on you.

And just like that, the day melts off him.

“There you are, beautiful,” he says softly, voice like velvet. He shrugged off his suit jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and crosses the room like nothing else exists but you.

You meet him, already smiling, already pulled in by the magnetic way he moves toward you—like the world begins and ends in your arms. His hands cradle your face like you’re something precious, thumbs brushing gently against your skin.

“I missed you so much,” you whisper, and he sighs like he’s been holding his breath until this very moment.

He leans in and kisses you slow, deep, like he was home now—really home.

Only then do you notice the shopping bags behind him. There was so many. Delicate little boxes tied with satin ribbons, high-end boutiques with your favorite colors, fabrics, shoes. He follows your gaze and chuckles softly.

“I just saw a few things I thought you’d look beautiful in,” he says, casual like he hadn’t just dropped a fortune. “Couldn’t help myself.”

Your heart squeezes. Not because of the gifts—but because of him. The way he sees you. The way he makes sure you never go a moment without knowing you’re cherished. Adored. Worshipped, even.

You shake your head, overwhelmed, but he just pulls you back into him.

“You don’t ever have to lift a finger,” he murmurs. “You’ve already given me everything I ever wanted. Just let me take care of you.”