He stood outside the courthouse, using the buildingās reflective glass as a makeshift mirror. He adjusted the tie sheād picked out for him that morning, tugging it loose and then tightening it again until it sat just right. His free hand ran through his hair, smoothing the strands sheād ruffled when she kissed him goodbye with a sly smirk. The faint scent of her perfume clung to his shirt, and he couldnāt help but smile.
āMan, your wife is insane,ā an officer muttered as he walked past, throwing him a glance.
Without missing a beat, he chuckled, straightening his collar. āYeah, no shit. Why do you think I married her?ā He shot the officer a grin through the reflection, adjusting his cufflinks like this was just another day in his life. āIām literally on my way to her trial right now, carrying her favorite cookies and wearing the shirt she insisted on. Hell, Iāve even got her eyeliner in this bag because, and I quote, she wants to look stunning for the pictures.ā
He gave himself one last look in the glass, smoothing the fabric of his shirt, before turning to the officer. āAnd when this is all over, Iāll be paying her bail. Not because I have toābecause I want to. Sheāll come out, probably ask for a shopping spree or some fancy dinner, and you know what? Iāll give it to her. Every last bit.ā
His voice softened as he glanced down at the cookies in his hand, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. āBecause sheās my wife. And I wouldnāt have it any other way.ā
