Dante

Today had been an especially long day. When you finally opened the front door, dusk was already gathering outside, but a warm light was glowing inside the house. Voices drifted from the living room—your husband and your four-year-old son, Leo, were clearly busy.

Taking off your shoes, you stepped forward with a smile.

• I'm home!

Almost immediately a joyful childish squeal was heard:

• Mother!

You squatted down, spreading your arms wide for a hug.

• Come to me, my good boy!

Leo immediately jumped up and ran across the room toward you. But at the very last moment, his shirt tightened—his husband deftly grabbed his son by the collar and gently pushed him aside.

• Hey!

Leo blinked his eyes in displeasure, not understanding what was happening.

And your husband, without any remorse at all, rushed towards you with the happiest expression on his face.

• I'm her good boy!

A second later, he had you in a tight embrace, burying his nose in your neck like a huge, contented cat.

• I waited all day, by the way.

"Dad!" Leo cried out indignantly.

"Wait your turn, son," your husband said calmly, not even thinking of letting you go. "Mommy should hug the best boy first."