A few minutes later, the property management shuttle pulled up and stopped precisely in front of them.

"Mr. King?" the attendant asked.

"Yes."

"You ordered a bouquet of flowers via our delivery service this afternoon. The courier just dropped them off with us."

Maxwell took the flowers from his hands. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome. Have a wonderful day, and goodbye!"

Before the words had even finished echoing, the shuttle zoomed off, carrying its cargo of packages and groceries, and vanished from sight.

Arianna stood there, blinking, still trying to process the scene. Why did he order flowers? Was there some special occasion she had missed?

Maxwell turned, offering her the bouquet. His voice was low and gentle. "Arianna, for you."

It was a bundle of sunflowers.

The golden petals were vibrant and stunning, stretching out like they were waking up from a nap, revealing the dark, immature seeds nestled in the center. The stems were thick and sturdy, and the bundle felt heavy and substantial in her arms.

Arianna took them, bewildered. "Why flowers?"

Maxwell reached out, tucking a few loose petals back into the vintage brown paper wrap. "To celebrate you getting your promotion."

Arianna paused, completely caught off guard.

A smile touched Maxwell's lips as he reached out to take her hand, pulling her toward their home. "Back inside. Remind me, exactly when did you get the news?"

"Yesterday."

Maxwell’s pace faltered, and he shot her a sideways glance. "Then why didn't you tell me?"

His voice dropped, feigning a hint of wounded vulnerability. There was no actual malice in it, but it made Arianna’s conscience prickle uncomfortably.

She scrambled to find a way to explain herself, but Maxwell beat her to it. "Oh, right. You didn't tell me at all. I had to ask to find out."

He had thrown two invisible daggers, and both struck her right in the heart. Arianna felt like she’d been metaphorically skewered.

"If I hadn't asked," Maxwell pressed, his tone turning firm, almost cornering her, "how long were you planning on keeping it to yourself?"

His eyes remained soft, however, as he gently massaged her fingertips. It felt as intimate as kneading soft dough.

Arianna finally caved, surrendering to the truth. "I just thought... it’s just a promotion. It’s not really a big deal."

"No," Maxwell corrected her, seeing right through her facade. "You just thought that because it’s a promotion, it wouldn't be a big deal *to me*."

She hadn't expected him to nail her internal monologue so accurately. Her heart skipped a beat, and she looked up at him, startled.

Maxwell stopped walking, his long fingers resting on her shoulders as he leaned in to meet her gaze. "Is that right?"

His eyes were deep and luminous, as if he could catalog every one of her insecurities. Arianna had nowhere to hide. She bit her lip nervously. "I was just worried you’d think I was making a big fuss over nothing."

"I would never."

Maxwell held her stare, his gaze unblinking. Arianna held the sunflowers to her chest; the scent of the blooms drifted between them, perfuming the air. His eyes were burning, his voice low and unwavering.

"Arianna, your business is my business."

His dark eyes mirrored her own slender frame. He held his head tilted so he was level with her, and she didn't need to look up; she just had to lift her chin slightly to drown in that inky, bottomless gaze.

She wanted to ask him why. Why say that? Why treat her like this? But she already knew the likely answer—because they were married, and this was what married couples did. It was a standard, rehearsed response. But beyond that, Arianna couldn't fathom another reason.

She had to admit, Maxwell was an exemplary man, an exemplary husband. They had absolutely no emotional foundation, yet he navigated this marriage with such precision. If he actually had someone he truly loved, she couldn't help but wonder, that person would probably be pampered beyond belief.

Maxwell’s long, articulate fingers were still resting on her shoulders. He hooked his arm around her, steering her forward with a relaxed, lazy confidence. "Let’s go. Inside."

Until now, they had never shared such an intimate, ambiguous proximity. The most they’d ever done was hold hands. Now, pulled half-into his embrace, her arm occasionally brushed against his side. She could feel the taut, firm muscles beneath his clothes.

Maxwell was like a walking pulse of energy. He was the kind of guy who looked slim in a suit but was likely made of pure, high-density muscle underneath.

The walk was only a few steps, but it felt like a lifetime. Her palms began to sweat.

As they stepped onto the porch, the smell of a home-cooked meal hit them, effectively shattering her train of thought. She realized then that Maxwell had actually cooked, and it smelled incredible.

"Do you cook often?" she asked.

Maxwell considered this. "Occasionally. We usually have a housekeeper for that."

"Then why today...?"

She already had the answer, especially when she walked into the dining room and saw the table groaning under the weight of a full feast. Sticky BBQ ribs, pan-seared sea bass with herbs, butter-garlic shrimp, and a rich beef and potato pot roast.

Arianna’s mouth fell open. "Did—did you make all of this?"

Maxwell was the picture of nonchalance, or at least he played the part well. He nodded, pulling her chair out for her. "Mrs. King, please, have a taste. Feel free to give me your feedback so I can improve next time."

Arianna stared at the spread, at a loss for words. After a long moment, she slowly sat down and placed her sunflowers to the side. Maxwell took his seat opposite her.

She finally couldn't help but ask, "Why did you suddenly decide to cook and make so much food today?"

Maxwell picked up a wine glass and poured her a glass of orange juice before pouring himself one. "To celebrate you getting your promotion, of course," he said, a faint, idle smile playing on his lips. "What else would it be for?"

Arianna was stumped. He was right. Why would a man who rarely stepped into the kitchen bother with a full-course feast today if not for her?

"Myria clears out a lot of new hires every year," Maxwell said, using a serving spoon to drop a rib onto her plate. "The benefits are great, so there's little turnover. Most positions are saturated. In that kind of environment, landing a permanent spot is a real achievement."

He looked at her, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Especially doing it a month early. That’s definitely something worth celebrating."