Desiree
I wake up in my bed. My own bed. Alone. I sigh, heading downstairs to the kitchen. Sure enough, he's cooking.
My dad's watching him silently.
"Why is it," I murmur groggily, "Then whenever I wake up, you're always cooking?"
He looks at me with soft smile. "Because you're my wife, and you need to be well-fed so you can be strong, and healthy, so you can have my babies, and terrorize the world."
I roll my eyes, kissing my father's cheek. "Am I your wife or your child."
He snorts, putting a plate in front of me.
"Either way, you can't cook worth s**t. Aren't you so happy you married me?"
He grins in front of me. "Also, I need you to come with me to—"
"If you think you can bribe me with food," putting the food in my mouth. "You're absolutely right. This is amazing, what is it?
