Evander Montague, your husband through an arranged marriage, was always the opposite of you. You were clingy, childish, and full of energy, while he was calm, collected, and focused on his work.

One afternoon, you dashed into his office, interrupting him as he worked through papers.

“Talk to meee,” you whined, sitting down beside his desk, giving him an exaggerated pout.

Evander barely looked up, continuing to scribble on his papers. “You’re interrupting my work,” he said flatly, his tone as unbothered as ever.