Daniel and Amara's home was never quiet in the mornings.
The sound of the kettle whistling, soft music from the radio, and Amara's gentle footsteps moving across the tiled floor always announced the beginning of a new day. Daniel often woke up before his alarm, not because he had to, but because he enjoyed watching his wife as she moved around the room with calm purpose.
She always smiled when she noticed him watching.
"You'll be late for work," she would say, pretending to scold him, though her eyes were filled with affection.
Daniel would laugh, stretch his arms, and pull her closer for a brief embrace. Those moments, simple as they were, meant everything to him. To him, marriage was not about grand gestures; it was about mornings like this—peaceful, familiar, and full of love.
They had been married for six years, and though life had not been perfect, they had learned to grow together. They argued sometimes, as all couples did, but their disagreements never lasted long. Daniel hated sleeping without resolving an issue, and Amara hated carrying bitterness in her heart. Before nightfall, they always found their way back to each other.
Their neighbors admired them.
Some even whispered that they were lucky.
Daniel worked as a dedicated employee at a private firm, leaving home early every morning and returning just before sunset. Amara managed the house and ran a small business from home, which gave her both independence and fulfillment. She took pride in supporting her husband, not just as a wife, but as a partner.
In the evenings, they often sat together on the couch, sharing stories about their day. Daniel talked about work stress; Amara talked about her customers and her plans for the future. Sometimes they laughed. Sometimes they sat in comfortable silence, enjoying nothing more than each other's presence.
Love lived easily between them.
There were moments when Amara wondered about motherhood—quiet thoughts she kept to herself. She imagined a child running through the house, laughter filling every corner. Still, she never allowed longing to turn into sadness. She believed that life unfolded in its own time, and whatever God had planned would come when it was meant to.
Daniel, too, believed their life was complete.
He felt proud whenever he looked at Amara, proud of the woman she was and the home they had built together. To him, she was more than a wife; she was his closest friend, his comfort, his safe place after a long day.
At night, they prayed together before sleeping, holding hands, grateful for another day shared. Daniel always thanked God for his marriage, while Amara prayed for continued peace and love in their home.
Neither of them knew how fragile happiness could be.
For now, their world was steady, their love unquestioned, and their future bright. They fell asleep each night believing that the life they had built together would remain just as it was—strong, united, and untouched by anything beyond their walls.