My Husband Is An International Idol

Liliana stood outside the bathroom door for a long moment.

Emily’s gift box rested on the marble counter, already open. She looked at it again before letting out a nervous laugh.

"I can’t believe I’m actually doing this."

The warm shower helped calm her racing heart.

She carefully washed her hair with a jasmine-scented shampoo whose fragrance reminded her of spring mornings back in Sterling Village. The soft floral scent lingered as she rinsed it away.

She followed it with a gentle body wash scented with white tea and peony. The warm water eased the tension from her shoulders after weeks filled with hospitals, rehearsals, and endless worry.

Tonight felt different. Not because anyone expected anything from her. But because Chris was finally recovering.

After drying off, she took her time. She applied a light moisturizer that left her skin soft without feeling heavy.

A delicate floral perfume followed—just enough to leave a subtle scent whenever she moved.

She carefully brushed and dried her long brown hair until it fell in loose, silky waves over her shoulders.

Then she examined her reflection. For once, she wasn’t preparing for a photoshoot or for a luxury campaign. Not even for the cameras. She was simply preparing for the man she loved.

The elegant satin sleepwear Emily had chosen was simple and graceful, its ivory fabric catching the warm light of the bathroom. It made her feel beautiful without feeling like someone she wasn’t.

She smiled nervously at her reflection.

"Okay... You can do this."

Taking one last deep breath, she opened the bathroom door.

Chris was sitting by the window reading another handwritten letter from a fan.

The soft click of the door caught his attention. He looked up instinctively.

Then paused.

The first thing he noticed wasn’t what she was wearing. It was the familiar floral fragrance that drifted across the room.

His eyes slowly lifted toward her. And for a brief moment, he simply stared.

Liliana suddenly wished the floor would open beneath her.

"Say something..."

she whispered.

Chris blinked once before smiling warmly.

"You look..."

He searched for the right word.

"...beautiful."

Her cheeks immediately turned pink.

"Thank you."

She slowly walked closer. Every step made her heart beat faster.

Chris noticed how nervous she looked. Far more nervous than during any fashion show.

He gently set the fan letter aside.

"Lily?"

She clasped her hands together.

"I..." She looked away. "There was something the doctor mentioned."

Chris tilted his head.

"The doctor?"

She nodded.

"He said..."

Her voice became almost inaudible.

"...that spending time together..."

She stopped again.

Chris quietly waited.

"...might help you relax."

Silence.

Then realization slowly appeared across his face.

His ears turned slightly red.

"So..." He smiled gently. "That’s why you’ve been so nervous."

Liliana covered her face.

"I’ve been trying to say it for ten minutes."

Chris couldn’t help laughing softly. He stood and walked toward her.

Stopping only inches away, he reached for her hands.

"You know..."

His voice remained warm and reassuring.

"...you never have to force yourself to find the perfect words with me."

She looked up into his blue eyes.

"I was embarrassed."

"I noticed."

"I thought you might laugh."

"I almost did."

She pouted.

"Chris."

"But only because you’re adorable when you’re flustered."

She lightly bumped his shoulder.

"You’re teasing me again."

"A little."

He gently brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Then his expression became serious.

"You also need to know something."

She blinked.

"If you had walked out wearing your oldest pajamas instead..."

He smiled.

"...I’d still think you were beautiful."

Tears unexpectedly gathered in her eyes.

"You always know what to say."

He shook his head.

"No. I just tell the truth."

He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"You’ve taken care of me every day since I got sick. You cancelled your work. You barely slept and stayed beside my hospital bed."

His thumb gently brushed across her hand.

"So before anything else, thank you."

Liliana smiled through watery eyes.

"I was just taking care of my husband."

"And I’m the luckiest husband in the world."

He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. The room became wonderfully quiet.

Chris smiled softly.

"You know I would never reject you."

Her heart skipped a beat.

"I know."

"And..."

He gently lifted her into his arms.

She laughed in surprise, instinctively wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Chris."

"The doctor also told me not to overexert myself."

She giggled.

"But carrying my wife to bed is probably enough exercise."

She laughed so hard she buried her face against his shoulder.

He carefully laid her down on the bed. Then instead of rushing the moment, he simply wrapped an arm around her. She leaned comfortably against him.

They stayed that way for several quiet minutes, listening to each other’s breathing. They felt grateful that the frightening days in the hospital were finally behind them.

Chris kissed her forehead.

"Thank you for choosing me."

Liliana looked into his eyes.

"I’ve been choosing you since we were children."

He smiled.

"And I’ll keep choosing you."

She intertwined her fingers with his.

"So will I."

He lifted her chin gently, his gaze softening as it lingered on her lips.

"Can I?" he asked quietly.

Her answer was a small nod, her breath catching.

Their lips met slowly, hesitantly at first, like rediscovering something precious they had almost lost. The kiss deepened with warmth rather than urgency, filled with tenderness and quiet reassurance.

Liliana’s fingers curled into his shirt as she leaned closer, her heart racing but no longer from nervousness. Chris’s hand rested at her waist, steady and gentle, as if reminding her that she was safe, that this moment belonged only to them.

They parted briefly, foreheads touching again, both smiling softly.

"I missed this," he murmured.

"So did I," she whispered.

He kissed her again, this time with more certainty, and she responded without hesitation. The world outside faded completely as they moved closer, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating in quiet harmony.

Chris brushed his lips along her cheek, her jaw, the curve of her neck, each touch slow and reverent. Liliana closed her eyes, her hands finding his shoulders, holding onto him as warmth spread through her.

There was no rush. No pressure. Only trust. Only love.

He paused, searching her eyes once more, silently asking.

She answered by pulling him closer.

The rest unfolded naturally, guided by years of affection and an unspoken understanding between them. Every touch was careful, every movement filled with tenderness, as if they were both aware of how fragile and precious this moment was.

Liliana rested her head against his chest afterward, listening to his steady heartbeat.

Chris wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Neither of them spoke for a while. They didn’t need to.

Outside, the lights of Paris glittered against the night sky. Inside the quiet hotel suite, there were no grand declarations or cheering crowds.

Only two hearts, finally at peace, grateful for another ordinary evening together—and for the chance to keep writing their story, one day at a time.

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