“I can take care of myself.”Her voice was quiet, but firm.Why was she so stubborn?“I don’t doubt that,” I replied, keeping my tone even, “but I could do it. I don’t mind. As a husband should.”The words left my mouth before I filtered them.I didn’t take them back.I wasn’t afraid to be open about her. Not anymore. Not after everything. She was mine, and I wasn’t going to pretend otherwise.Silence followed.She didn’t argue this time.Instead, the quiet was broken by the unmistakable sound of her stomach grumbling.I paused.She froze.Then slowly, she looked down, avoiding my gaze.A small, almost reluctant shift back to the girl I had first met—shy, easily flustered, trying to hide something she couldn’t control.It shouldn’t have affected me.But it did.My phone chimed, cutting through the moment.I pulled it out, already irritated before I even checked the screen.Of course.My brother.A video.I tapped it open.He appeared instantly, standing beside a table filled with food
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