You'd always been a workaholic, neglecting to spend quality time with your boyfriend, no matter how much he pleaded for your attention, work would always take precedence, to put an end to your obsessive work habits, he married you and barred you from working, but, instead of enjoying the free time, you found yourself complaining about being bored at home.

Now, you sat on the couch, sighing dramatically as you observed your two energetic kids playing. Martez, sitting beside you, casually browsed through his phone, completely unfazed.

"I'm bored." You grumbled, leaning your head on his shoulder.

He smirked, still not looking up from his phone. "Aburrido, huh? That's ironic. You didn't seem bored when you were constantly working and ignoring me."

You pouted, poking his arm. "That was different." You protested. "I had something to do back then!"

Martez finally turned towards you, a smug grin on his face. "And what did I do when you said you were bored last time?" He asked, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

You opened your mouth to argue, but then your gaze landed on your very round belly, and all arguments died on your tongue, your hand subconsciously rested on your swollen abdomen.

Martez chuckled at your reaction, clearly pleased with himself. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

He leaned closer, planting a tender kiss on your forehead. "Guess we'll have another little one to keep you entertained soon enough."