It was finally lunchtime.

Or so the clock said.

I was still glued to my desk, scrolling through financial reports, notes from the last site inspection, and an endless chain of emails that somehow all said the same thing —urgent.

My eyes were starting to blur when my phone buzzed beside the keyboard.

The Love of My Life ❤️❤️ Celestia Valentina Moreau

The name alone pulled a smile from me.

I tapped accept.

Her face filled the screen, perfectly framed hair, a soft light falling across her cheek, and that faint hint of lip gloss she pretended wasn't intentional.

"It's lunch time over there, right?" she said, eyes narrowing slightly like she already knew the answer.

"Yep."

She squinted. "You sound suspiciously casual. Have you eaten?"

"About to," I lied, glancing at the still-full mug of coffee on my desk.

"Kai Tanaka," she said, in that exact tone she used whenever I forgot to rest or ate something that technically wasn't food. "You skipped breakfast, didn't you?"

"I had breakfast," I said, casually.

She squinted, unconvinced. "What kind of breakfast?"

"…Coffee and, uh, a slice of toast."

She sighed, like she was dealing with a child. "Kai, that's not breakfast. That's an apology waiting to happen."

"Technically," I started, grinning, "toast is food."

She leaned closer to the screen, eyes narrowing. "Barely. You need actual nutrients, husband."

"Coffee has antioxidants," I countered.

She gave me that look, the one that said don't push it, even though the corner of her mouth twitched.

I grinned despite myself. "You're scary when you do that."

"Good. Then maybe you'll listen."

"Always do," I said, still smiling.

Her expression softened. "You're working too hard again, aren't you?"

"Just finishing up some reports. You know how it is, deadlines, projections, deadlines again."

She sighed. "You sound like an old man."

"I am an old man."

> "You're twenty-six."

"Exactly. Practically ancient."

Her lips curved into that familiar half-smile, the one that looked dangerously close to a laugh. "You know, you're lucky you're cute when you say things like that."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

> "It wasn't one."

"Still taking it."

She rolled her eyes, but I caught the faintest smile tugging at her mouth.

There was a pause, the comfortable kind that usually meant neither of us needed to fill the silence. Then she tilted her head slightly and said, "You know, you're being very calm for someone who's starving. Should I be worried?"

I shrugged. "Maybe I'm mellow because of all the love I've been getting lately."

> "Oh, so you noticed."

"Hard not to. You've been extra sweet lately. Caring. Attentive. Using husband in every sentence."

"Hmm." She smiled knowingly. "That's how it is after arguments."

"After arguments?" I repeated.

"Mm-hmm. Married couples fight, they make up, and somehow, the love doubles. It's science."

I smirked. "If they love each other."

> "Especially when they love each other."

I let that hang for a moment before raising an eyebrow. "Are you saying you love me, Mrs. Tanaka?"

Her eyes gleamed with amusement. "Like you don't already know that."

"I like hearing it."

> "Then you'll have to earn it."

"How so?"

> "By eating lunch."

I laughed. "You and this lunch thing."

She smiled and opened her mouth to say something else, but a voice came through faintly on her end, something I couldn't make out. Her gaze shifted off-screen.

"Right," she said to whoever it was. "I'll take a look at it once I finish this call. Just leave it on my desk."

Her tone had changed, professional, crisp, the side of her that commanded boardrooms without even raising her voice. Then, in a blink, she turned back to me, warmth slipping easily back into her eyes.

She pointed at the camera. "Eat."

"Yes, ma'am."

> "I mean it, Kai."

"I will."

She gave a satisfied nod, leaned a little closer to the screen, and whispered, "Good." Then, without another word, she kissed the camera. "Love you."

And before I could respond, the screen went black.

I sat there for a second, staring at my reflection in the glass. My lips twitched into a smile I couldn't stop.

That woman.

That beautiful, terrifying, brilliant woman.

"Ah," a familiar voice said from the desk beside mine, breaking my thoughts. "What love does to a man."

I glanced over. Derrick was swiveling lazily in his chair, grinning like he'd just watched the most entertaining show on earth.

"Do you ever mind your own business?" I asked.

] "Rarely. It's boring."

I sighed, closing my laptop. "You're impossible."

"And you're whipped," he said cheerfully, standing to stretch. "Completely and utterly whipped."

"Big word for you."

] "Thank you. I've been reading."

"Menus don't count, Derrick."

He laughed, grabbing his jacket. "You're just jealous I can still charm women without having to use spreadsheets and logic."

I raised an eyebrow. "Charm? Is that what you call forgetting half their names?"

He placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "That only happened once."

"Thrice."

"Okay, maybe three times. But that's not the point."

"What's the point then?"

] "That you've gotta teach me sometime, you know, how to bag a hot girl like yours."

I squinted at him. "You do that every day."

] "Yeah, but I haven't met one I'd put a ring on."

"That's because you're allergic to commitment."

He smirked. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

I stood, grabbing my phone and jacket. "One day it'll catch up to you."

"One day, maybe. Until then, I'll be the guy buying you pity drinks after Val gets mad again."

"She's not gonna get mad."

He gave me a knowing look. "She's Valentina Celestia Moreau."

"Fair point."

We both laughed as we stepped out of the office.

The corridor was buzzing — phones ringing, the faint hum of printers, the smell of coffee and productivity. Derrick shoved his hands in his pockets as we walked toward the elevator.

"You know," he said, "you're a different guy when you're happy."

"How so?"

] "You actually smile."

"I always smile."

] "No, you smirk. There's a difference."

The elevator dinged, and he continued, "You should keep doing it, though. The whole happy-husband thing suits you."

I chuckled softly. "Yeah"

I pressed the button for the lobby, and as the doors slid shut, I glanced at my reflection again — faint smile still lingering, eyes lighter than they'd been in weeks.

Maybe he was right.

The husband thing really did fit me — especially when the reason behind it was her.

---

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