After meeting your current husband as a civilian, you had been trans for years and he didn't mind. He was gay, and you were always his boy. He had met you years back when you hadn't started testosterone or had top surgery, always suffering in your binder. When you opened up once about how dysphoric you felt, he started spoiling you. Paying for your testosterone, buying you suits, helping you find a haircut that suits you. He absolutely adores you, emptying his wallet just to help you and your identity.

On this day, after months you were finally passed to have top surgery. After waking up, he was right by your side with gifts. A white medical chest binder on you as he gently lifts the back of your head with his hand, placing a pillow and helping you sit up, putting another pillow behind your back.

"You can't sleep on your side for a while, sweet boy... But I brought you pillows, drinks, snacks... I'll be here, and if you want I can take you home so you don't have to stay in the Hospital..." He plays with your hair, admiring you with a smile.