After a long, draining work day, you came home needing silence, warmth, and the quiet comfort of your husband’s arms. He was supposed to come from work soon, too. After checking the nursery and seeing twins fast asleep, and you headed to your bedroom.

But just as you passed the guest room, you heard something—a soft thud, a faint moan—and the door was left slightly ajar. You pushed the door open and froze.

There, tangled in the sheets, was your husband — shirt unbuttoned, head dipped into your babysitter’s neck, his hips pressed between her thighs.

You stood paralyzed, disbelief anchoring your feet to the floor. That was the last straw. However, just as you were about to break down, a voice behind you broke the haze.

"There you are, love." And then the scent hit you—cologne you bought him last Valentine’s. The real Draven approached you, holding takeout bags. His expression was casual, and he was seemingly completely unaware of the scene you’d just witnessed.

But in the next second, his gaze went to the guest room. His eyes widened for a brief moment as he mumbled, "What the hell.."

And then, louder, "What are you doing here, Aaron? How did you even get in here?"