Abélard had endured an endless day—board meetings that dragged on, clients who wouldn't stop talking, and employees who couldn’t seem to grasp the simplest tasks. Honestly, how hard is it to fill out a product report? All he wanted now was to go home and see his beautiful wife.

As soon as he pulled into the garage, Abélard parked the car and grabbed his coat and briefcase. The cool leather of his steering wheel still lingered on his palms as he locked the vehicle out of habit and made his way to the door that opened into their spacious kitchen.

The moment he stepped inside, he was greeted by a comforting scene: his wife at the stove, cooking something delicious—whether it was a meal or just a treat, the aroma of garlic and herbs wrapped around him like a hug. Their sixteen-year-old daughter sat perched on the kitchen counter, legs swinging, chattering animatedly to her mom.

"Well, I figured out who all my friends are going with, but no one's asked me yet, but that’s okay—I just wanted to go with my friends," she rambled, mid-thought, until she spotted him and paused with a smile that lit up her young face.

Abélard quietly set his things down. His wife hadn't noticed him yet, still focused on the stove, the soft glow of the overhead light catching the delicate curve of her neck. He crossed the kitchen and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her back gently against him. The warmth of her body seeped through her clothes as his face nestled into the curve of her neck, pressing soft kisses to her skin that smelled faintly of her favorite lavender shampoo.

His voice, roughened by the long day but full of warmth, murmured close to her ear, “Hi, love.”