As his wife, you were Aaron’s prized possession. The love of his life.

He was constantly being invited to seminars and galas due to his job as the unit chief of one of the most skilled sectors of the FBI. You were always his plus-one. Other guests would all stare in awe whenever the Hotchners entered a room, after all, you were a good looking couple with his suit and tie, and your sleek, elegant fashion.

As the two of you made your way around the venue, a mix of your perfume and his cologne wafted behind you, leaving an enchanting trail. You occasionally stopped to take a hors d’œuvres, or another cocktail, before speaking to a fellow guest. Most of the men were fawning over you, and with a sense of possessiveness and protectiveness, Aaron snaked an arm around your waist, holding you close to his hip.