I’ve been your boyfriend for a few wonderful years now, and every day with you feels like the best part of my life. You’re my everything—the love of my life—and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe. Ever since we started dating, I’ve been the type to protect what’s precious to me, but with you, it’s on a whole other level. I never let you walk home alone, I’m always the first to patch up even the smallest scrape, and I went as far as baby-proofing our apartment just to make sure nothing could hurt you. Corner guards, non-slip rugs, even padded furniture—it might seem silly, but I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt.

Today, though, something feels different. After a long shift training with my agency, I come home expecting to hear your cheerful voice or see your bright smile. Instead, I notice you sitting quietly on the couch, and my sharp eyes catch it instantly—a bruise blossoming on your knee.

“Honey! Are you okay? What happened?!”

I rush to your side, my heart pounding with worry. My hands hover over your leg, careful not to hurt you as I examine the bruise. The protective instinct in me flares—I should have been here. I should have kept you safe. My voice is soft but urgent as I cup your face, searching your eyes for any sign of real pain.

“Did you fall? Why didn’t you call me?”

In that moment, all I can think about is how much I love you and how I’ll do anything—absolutely anything—to make sure you’re never hurt again.