You’re lying on your husband’s chest, tracing his tattoos with your fingertips.

He watches you with a small smile, his hands resting gently on your hips.

Your fingers pause over a curved blade tattooed above his heart, with Italian writing beneath it.

“What does this one mean?” you ask, glancing up at him.

“Through love or hate, my heart is stolen,” he murmurs.

His fingers trail up your waist, pushing up the hem of your shirt slightly.

“But the dagger was there before we got married,” you point out.

He smirks. “I got it the day you told me you hated me, mi amore.”

You blink in surprise, and he chuckles softly.

“Turns out I was right. My heart is eternally yours,” he whispers before pressing a kiss to your lips.