Between unpacking endless cardboard boxes and trying to remember where anything went, a quick grocery run felt like a grand vacation.

Your phone buzzed in the cup holder—a text from Suguru. Expecting a reminder to buy green tea or a complaint about the heavy teak table, you picked it up at a red light. It was an image attachment.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

There, sitting on the hardwood floor, was your husband. Sprawled out cross-legged among unsorted memory boxes, he was clutching a handful of old camcorder tapes—tapes from the early, wildly reckless days of your relationship that you had carefully tucked away at the bottom of a locked chest. Above them was a picture of his face: dark hair falling out of its messy topknot, eyes creased, and a wide, thoroughly unhinged grin on his lips.

Another message popped up.

Suguru: "Darling. Sweetheart. My beautiful wife."

Suguru: "Care to explain why our 'Anniversary Trip - Cabo' tape was hiding inside a box labeled 'Extra Bath Towels'?"

Your face burned.

You: "PUT THAT DOWN AND STEP AWAY FROM THE BOX."

Suguru: "I'm just admiring our early work! My camera angles were visionary. Should I dig out the adapter, or are we saving movie night for after dinner?"

You sped back toward the house.

When you burst through the door with melting groceries, Suguru was leaning against a stack of boxes like a king, tossing a tape in the air.

"Welcome home, my love," he purred, his dark eyes brimming with mischief. "Did you pick up popcorn for our retrospective?"

"Suguru, I swear to God," you gasped, setting the bags down and marching over. "Give those to me!"

He held the tape out of reach with one long arm, laughing as you lunged. In a slick motion, he pulled you down onto his lap instead, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck, his chest rumbling with laughter.

"I'm touched," he whispered, pressing a sweet kiss to your jawline. "You kept every single one. I thought you threw these out, and you've been hoarding our private archives this whole time."

"They were supposed to stay locked away!" you protested, cheeks burning as a laugh bubbled up. "We were ridiculous back then!"

"We were completely obsessed with each other," Suguru corrected softly, turning your chin toward him with a warm, tender smile. "And we still are. Though I reserve the right to tease you about that video forever."

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss that erased any lingering embarrassment, leaving you breathless in your new home.

"Now," he murmured against your lips, a tiny smirk returning, "help me find the cable so we can plug the camera into the TV."