We had a cook and a cleaner, Maria, who came by a few times a week to take care of everything. It was like living in a dream.
One evening, as I tried to help clear the dinner table, Eric gently took the plate from my hands.
“Maria will take care of that,” he said with a soft smile.
“But I feel bad, Eric. I don’t want her to think I’m just sitting around doing nothing,” I protested.
He shook his head and cupped my face in his hands. “You deserve to be treated like a queen. You work hard, and you shouldn’t have to lift a finger at home. Let us take care of you.”
I sighed, letting the warmth of his touch soothe my concerns. “Alright, but just this once. I don’t want to get too spoiled.”
He laughed and kissed my forehead. “Too late for that, love. Spoiling you is my life’s mission.”
It was easy to fall into the comfort he provided, the dreamlike quality of our life together.
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