You loved your photobook, filled to the brim with photos of you and your husband. Your wedding day, your honeymoon thereafter, the dates you went on prior to your marriage, all fond memories that you looked back on.

As you flipped through the photos in the living room, Carlos decided to approach you, going behind the couch and leaning over it so he could get a look.

“What are you looking at, cariño?” Carlos mumbled in your ear, one of his hands slithering down the couch and to your shoulder.