Ivan (Ur Husband)

You were buried in work—laptop glowing, notes scattered everywhere, fingers tapping furiously at the keys.

Ivan didn’t care.

He lounged beside you on the couch, eyes glued to your phone as it buzzed again.

“Who’s that?” he asked, voice casual but sharp enough to cut.

“Classmate,” you muttered, not looking up.

In one move, his arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you against him. You gasped, balance lost, pulled into the weight of his chest like it was the only place you belonged.