A MADMAN'S OBSESSION

Marceline hummed softly as she ironed Rafael’s crisp white work shirt. Morning light spilled through the kitchen window, warming the counters and catching the steam curling off the fabric. Three years married, and mornings like this still felt like little sanctuaries.

Rafael came up behind her, wrapping his arms gently around her waist. “You’re humming. What’s got you so happy this morning, sweetheart?” His voice was soft, carrying that effortless warmth that always made her heart flutter.

Marcie leaned back into him as a smile spread across her lips. “Good morning. How was your sleep?”

He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. His stubble grazed her skin just enough to make her shiver, before moving toward the dining table where breakfast was laid out. “It was good,” he said, settling into his chair. “You took excellent care of me last night.”

Marcie chuckled, playful. “Well, of course. How could I let my husband sleep while he comes home drunk from a night with his friends? Someone had to make sure you didn’t roll off the bed.”

Rafael’s grin widened, a spark of mischief in his eyes. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible?” she teased, setting the iron down and turning to face him. “I think that’s your specialty.”

He paused for a moment. His playful expression softened as a small sigh escaped him. “It’s been a while since my friends and I had a fun night together. Tonight, I’m meeting them again… so I might be late. Don’t wait up for me, okay?”

Marcie’s smile faltered just a little, worry tugging at her features. “Could you at least give me one of their numbers? Just in case… I need to make sure you get home safely?”

Rafael stiffened slightly, but the guilty look in his eyes vanished almost instantly. “Ah… no need, sweetheart. You’ve already done so much for me. I will make sure I come home to you.” He reached for the food she had prepared, taking a bite, but his eyes never left hers.

Marcie watched him with both relief and lingering worry in her chest. “Just promise me you’ll be careful,” she murmured almost in a whisper.

“I promise,” he said. “I’ll be home. No matter what.”

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You always know how to make me feel better, don’t you?”

“That’s my job,” Rafael said, his grin returning, warm and reassuring. “Keeping my wife happy, fed, and sane, at least until the day I retire from being perfect.”

Marcie rolled her eyes, but her heart swelled. “You’re far too confident for your own good.”

“And yet, somehow, it works,” he teased, lifting his coffee cup in a mock toast.

“I should prepare a little something for your friends,” Marcie said softly. A small smile played on her lips as an idea flickered in her mind.

Rafael looked up from his plate as a teasing smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Well… if it won’t bother you,” he said, “remember the cookies you once made me bring to the office? People at work actually liked them. I think they’d love another batch.”

Marcie’s eyes lit up, the playful side of her emerging. “Oh, so now my baking skills are going to earn me brownie points at your law firm too? You’re really setting me up for a reputation here.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Hey, what can I say? Your skills are… undeniable. Besides, I can already see them enjoying your treats while I sit there looking like the most well-fed husband in the city. Clearly, my wife loves me.”

Marcie laughed softly, shaking her head. “Of course I do,” she said warmly. Then, with a playful glint in her eyes, she added lightly, “Honestly, at this rate, I’m going to spoil you so much your friends will start asking if I’m feeding two people instead of one.”

Rafael raised a brow, amused. “Two people?”

Marcie’s cheeks warmed as she shrugged, trying to sound casual. “You know… maybe someday. A little one running around. Someone else to steal your suits and demand cookies.”

For a second, the air shifted.

Rafael’s smile faltered though not completely, but enough that Marcie noticed. His shoulders stiffened, and something unreadable flashed in his eyes, too quick to grasp.

“Marcie,” he said, his tone suddenly sharper, almost… offended. “You always bring that up so easily.”

Her playful expression slipped at once. “I—I didn’t mean it like that,” she said quickly, her fingers curling against the edge of the counter. “I was just joking. I thought it was… sweet.”

Rafael looked away. His jaw tightened as if he were biting back his anger.

“I’m not in the mood for those conversations in the morning,” he murmured.

The warmth in Marcie’s chest sank, replaced by a small, uneasy knot.

“Oh,” she whispered, blinking. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize… I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Rafael exhaled and finally stood up fixing himself.

“It’s fine,” he said, but he didn’t sound fine at all.

Marcie managed a small nod, though her smile was gone now. She turned back toward the iron, hands moving with a tremble, but her thoughts lingered on the sting of his reaction.

It was always like this.

Whenever Marcie so much as hinted at wanting a baby, no matter how gently, no matter how playfully, Rafael would slip away from the conversation as if it were something he couldn’t afford to touch. Sometimes he would change the subject with ease. Other times, he would simply pretend he hadn’t heard her at all.

At first, she told herself it was timing.

He was busy. He was stressed. He owned a law firm after all. He carried responsibilities that never truly ended. Maybe he just wanted to wait until things were calmer, until life felt more settled.

But three years had passed.

And the silence never changed.

There were nights she lay awake beside him, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, wondering what it was about that one subject that made him retreat so completely. It wasn’t as though she demanded anything. She never pushed too hard. She only wanted to know if they shared the same dream.

Sometimes she wondered if he simply didn’t want a child.

The thought always stung, because it wasn’t the kind of question she felt she had the right to ask aloud. Not when everything else between them seemed so… good.

Because Rafael did love her.

She knew that.

There was no day he came home without asking if she had eaten. No morning he left without a kiss. No moment where he made her feel forgotten or unloved. His care was constant, woven into the smallest gestures. His hand was always at her waist when he passed behind her, the softness in his voice when he called her sweetheart, and the way he looked at her as though she was the only thing in his world.

Marcie had never doubted his affection.

Never doubted that he cared.

And yet…

This was the one place where something invisible stood between them. A closed door she couldn’t open, no matter how gently she knocked.

It wasn’t anger that bothered her most.

It was the way Rafael could be so tender in every other way, yet turn distant the moment she spoke of a baby, as if the idea itself unsettled him.

Marcie didn’t know what hurt more...that he didn’t want a child…

Or that he wouldn’t simply tell her why.

So she swallowed it down, like she always did, pressing her worries beneath the surface with a careful smile.

But the ache remained.