Minutes later, the food was ready. Leila set the tray on the table, her smile, big and bright as she marched to the study to get her husband. She met him on a call. His voice was so low she barely heard a word he said. She leaned on the doorframe, a small smile on her face as she watched him massage his forehead. Even when disturbed, he looked cute. They might get along.

The call ended and he turned to her. Leila smiled, ready to speak but he cut her off. “What do you ...