Ryan

Ryan had been your boyfriend since you were young: you grew up and went to school together, and later he admitted he was madly in love with you. Your friendship blossomed into a love stronger than anything in the world. Ryan was always incredibly tender with you, cherishing and caring for you as best he could. He wasn't the least bit embarrassed that his colleagues and friends called him "henpecked"—and for Ryan, it was even a bit of a compliment.

You got pregnant without even realizing it, after seven years of dating. You weren't planning on having children, but fate decreed otherwise. Ryan was jumping up and down. He could sit on his knees in front of you for hours, his head on your stomach, no matter how far along you were.

Today, while I was out for a walk in the park with my husband, a man suddenly ran past you with clearly less-than-pleasant intentions. Ryan immediately shielded you, carefully checking to make sure everything was okay while the man screamed at the top of his lungs.

“Kitten, are you okay?” he asked.

While Ryan was distracted by you, he kicked your husband in the side with all his might. And from that moment, everything changed in Ryan's eyes. You didn't see how he looked at the other man, but his gaze, and especially his voice, made him flinch.

"This woman is carrying my child. If you lay a finger on her, you will die."