There weren't many couples at the registry office today.

Aside from them, only two or three other pairs were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, chatting while waiting for their numbers to be called. Arianna Stone and Maxwell King had decided to get married on a whim, so they hadn't made an appointment.

Maxwell went to the kiosk to grab a ticket, then returned to sit beside Arianna. He noticed her staring intently at the door to the registration room. "What's wrong? Nervous?"

"No," Arianna snapped back to reality, smiling. "Just curious."

"Give it a moment. We'll be up soon."

The way he said it made it sound like she was the one dying of impatience. Arianna just offered a soft, "Mhm."

On the other side of the lobby, there was a small stage for couples to pose for commemorative photos after signing their papers. In front of it, an LED sign displayed today’s date. Arianna stared at the numbers for a long while before asking out of the blue, "Why did you decide on today?"

"Because it’s your birthday."

"Oh?"

Maxwell didn't hesitate. "Getting married on your birthday—that’s a memory that sticks."

Arianna considered this, a faint smile touching her lips. "And what if I hadn't said yes?"

"Then it would still be a day worth remembering," Maxwell said, his gaze locked onto hers. His tone was gentle, underscored by a faint trace of amusement. "August 16, 2000. That’s the day Arianna Stone was born."

"And today, we’re married. So, it just gained another layer of significance."

Maxwell’s voice was steady and unhurried. "August 16, 2023. Today, Arianna Stone married me."

August 16, 2000: Arianna is born.

August 16, 2023: Arianna and Maxwell wed.

Both dates held the same weight; both were equally worth cherishing. Arianna felt as if her heart had been struck by something soft yet powerful. She stared at him, stunned, unable to find the words. Her eyes clouded with a thin, shimmering veil of moisture.

To lighten the mood, Maxwell laughed and sighed, "Man, what have I done? I just realized—does this mean I have to buy you two separate gifts every year from now on?"

Arianna laughed too. "Seems like it."

Maxwell was a "gift-giving disaster." Arianna knew that all too well.

Back in college, when Cameron Hughes had a birthday, Maxwell had pulled her aside to ask for advice on what to buy. Arianna had assumed he was just being overly cautious and told him, "You guys are best friends. It’s the thought that counts. Even if you bought him an action figure, he’d still be thrilled."

To her horror, on the night of the party, in front of everyone, Maxwell had actually presented him with a collector's edition action figure. It was incredibly expensive, of course, but from that day on, Maxwell was branded with the reputation of a "gift-giving idiot." Arianna felt a sliver of guilt for being the one who had "helped" him reach that conclusion.

Maxwell was still chuckling. "Same day, two gifts—my brain cells are going to burn out trying to keep up."

"Regretting it already?" Arianna teased. "It's not too late to back out."

No sooner had the words left her lips than the staff called their number over the intercom. Maxwell stood up, reaching out to take the hand she had resting on her lap. His expression turned serious. "No regrets."

"I was the one who proposed. Why would I regret it?"

"Let’s go, Arianna. I’ll take you out for a meal as soon as we’re done." He paused, looking down at her. "Anything specific you’re craving?"

Arianna: "..."

***

Half an hour later, Arianna and Maxwell were sitting in a quiet bistro tucked behind the registry office.

Arianna stared at the two bright-red marriage certificates in her hands, still struggling to believe it. She was actually... married. To Maxwell King.

She subconsciously looked up at him. Maxwell was scanning the menu, his long, pale fingers sliding across the tablet, the veins on the back of his hands standing out clearly. Arianna’s gaze drifted upward, following the line of his arm. When she caught his expression, she froze. "What are you smiling at?"

Ever since they stepped out of the office, the smile on Maxwell’s face hadn't faded once. He looked dazed, almost as if he were dreaming, living in a moment that felt profoundly surreal. He seemed unable to fully process that the woman he had wanted for so long—the woman he had obsessed over—was now his wife.

At her question, he reigned in his expression, putting on a show of composure. "Nothing. Just thought of something funny."

Arianna gave a noncommittal "Oh."

...

After the meal, they returned to the car.

"I have a meeting at the office in a bit. Where are you headed? I’ll drop you off."

Arianna thought for a moment. "Just home."

Maxwell gave a curt nod and started the car. A few seconds later, as if struck by a sudden thought, he reached over to turn the key, killing the engine.

Arianna turned to him, confused.

Maxwell pulled a black, professional-looking wallet from his pocket. It had a sleek, minimalist logo in the corner. He fished out a bank card and handed it straight to Arianna.

"???"

Arianna didn't take it, looking at him blankly. "What... is this?"

Maxwell lifted his eyes, his voice concise. "My paycheck."

Arianna stood frozen for a beat, staring at the polished, reflective surface of the card. She said, tentatively, "Why are you giving me your... paycheck?"

The air in the car seemed to still.

Maxwell raised an eyebrow. "Is it not standard procedure to hand over the paycheck?"

"No, no," Arianna stammered. "You don't have to—"

Before she could finish, Maxwell leaned over, grabbed her wrist, and pressed the card firmly into her palm. His movements were unyielding, a quiet, possessive authority in his touch. Their skin brushed briefly, and Arianna could feel the heat radiating from his fingertips.

"You have to," Maxwell said, closing her fingers over the card. A smile played in his eyes. "Handing over the paycheck is the bare minimum. A man should look like he’s actually married, don't you think?"

Arianna: "..."

Facing that logic, Arianna found herself completely speechless.

"Keep your phone on 24/7. If you need anything, call me anytime." Maxwell tilted his head, meticulously laying out the ground rules. "Or shoot me a text. I’ll reply the second I see it."

"And if you get bored, feel free to drop by the office to hang out."

"..."

The first part had been normal enough, but the last bit nearly made her choke on her own spit.

Maxwell continued, "If I have business dinners, I will report to you in advance. The time, the location, and exactly who will be there. Of course, you’re welcome to show up, or just call to check in. If I’m out for work, I’ll be home before midnight—I never stay out overnight."

"Is there anything else you’d like to add?"

Arianna was completely dazed. She shook her head blankly. "That... that’s enough."

"If you think of anything, just tell me," Maxwell said, his gaze softening. "Arianna, we’re married now. I want to give you absolute peace of mind."

Arianna couldn't help but ask, "But if you report every detail of your life to me, aren't you afraid I’ll infringe on your freedom?"

Maxwell looked her straight in the eye, his tone entirely sincere. "I don't know about other men, but I happen to like being kept on a leash."

"Arianna, you’re my wife. You have the right to demand anything from me, no questions asked."