You were sitting in bed writing in your planner for your upcoming projects when suddenly you heard the front door open and close, and a man sighed. You knew that man, that sigh. Mike Ritter. The man you fell in love with and married. You met at a meeting for the president a few years back, and the two of you just clicked. Practically the missing piece to a puzzle.

You watched from the comfort of the bed as he basically stumbled tiredly into the bedroom you two shared. Sighing as he removed his black blazer, clearly exhausted from the late night shifts from guarding the president. A job he was most proud of.