Malcolm's phone kept ringing in the living room, so he went out to deal with it, worried that the noise might wake up Little Bulb.

When I entered the bedroom, I found Little Bulb fast asleep, his chubby little face relaxed and serene. Every time I felt stressed, just looking at him made everything better.

I heard the ringing stop abruptly in the living room, and Malcolm soon walked back in. "Did I wake up Little Bulb?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

I shook my head.

Malcolm sat down next to me, his arm naturally draping over my shoulders. "Last week, the paparazzi caught us at the baby store."

Before I could respond, Malcolm gently rubbed the back of my neck, soothing me. "Don't worry. The studio has bought the photos, so neither you nor Little Bulb's pictures will be made public."

I suddenly felt a pang of guilt. If I hadn't taken Little Bulb out for dinner with my sister that day, Malcolm wouldn't have had to leave work early to pick us up, wouldn't have gone to the baby store to check out cribs, and wouldn't have been photographed by those pesky paparazzi.

Malcolm might be a towering Best Actor in the public eye, but at home, he was an amazing husband.

Since Little Bulb was born, even though we have two nannies taking turns to help, Malcolm insisted on changing diapers himself whenever he was around.

Despite a stack of scripts waiting for him in his study, he took his time to bathe and dress Little Bulb with patience and care.

Seeing such a wonderful man facing public scrutiny made me feel even more guilty.

Malcolm seemed to sense my unease and quickly comforted me, his voice gentle. "It's fine. As long as you and Little Bulb are safe and sound, everything else is just a minor inconvenience."

I looked up into his ever-gentle eyes. "Is your work being affected?"

"Not really," Malcolm said. "It's mostly just a bit of backlash from fans. But..."

He suddenly trailed off, making me feel uneasy. I urged him to continue.

"Director White called earlier. The film we were about to start is on hold until things settle down," Malcolm said.

John White, the renowned director, was a powerhouse in the industry. His films were top-notch, including the one that earned Malcolm his Best Actor award. It was clear how significant this setback was, as even John had paused the project.

Seeing Malcolm stay calm despite the situation, I threw my arms around him. "If you lose your job, don't worry—I'll support you by playing video games!"

The tall man, over six feet, nestled closer, a playful grin on his face. "Well, then it looks like Little Bulb and I will be relying on my amazing wife!"

Malcolm and I had known each other since we were kids.

We lived in the same apartment complex but on different floors. His parents were always busy with work, so my dad set an extra place at the table for him. Back then, he used to always steal the drumstick from my plate, so I wasn't exactly thrilled about his presence.

Malcolm was two years older than me. I was already a kindergarten kid when we first met. Despite my initial annoyance, I was easily won over by a piece of candy he offered. Later, he would bring over his new Transformers toys to share, and I'd eagerly invite him to help build sandcastles. It wasn't long before we became inseparable friends, walking hand in hand.

Malcolm was the neighborhood genius, known far and wide for his academic prowess. Meanwhile, I was often the last kid in the back row of the classroom, barely keeping up.

My parents always thought I lacked academic talent, and it wasn't until the year of my elementary school graduation, when education policies changed and we couldn't afford private school, that they started scrambling to get me tutors and enroll me in extra classes.

However, I hated attending classes and was always finding excuses to skip and cause trouble.

There was one memorable incident when my mom, furious, almost threw a freshly cooked piece of meat at me.

Malcolm stepped in to protect me, saying, "The meat is just done. It'd be such a waste to throw it away!"

To save the meat, Malcolm promised to personally tutor me.

Under his relentless guidance, my grades began to improve, hovering around the middle of the class.

"If you can get into the same middle school as me, I'll grant you one wish," Malcolm said, using this as motivation for me to study harder.

This promise totally hooked me. At the time, I was obsessed with a band, so I made a deal with Malcolm: if I got into the school, he'd take me to see my favorite band.

Little did I know this deal revealed my hidden potential.

I managed to get into the school, but Malcolm didn't fulfill his end of the bargain. As a result, we had a standoff for a month and a half.

That summer after we started middle school, Malcolm showed up with two tickets to the band's concert and said, "You kept your part of the deal, so I'm keeping mine."

During middle school, our classrooms were on different floors. Sometimes, when I didn't have enough money for snacks from the school shop, I'd scamper upstairs to find Malcolm. "Malcolm, can I borrow ten bucks?"

Over time, whenever Malcolm's classmates saw me at their classroom door, they'd tease him, "Looks like your little girl is here again!"

"If you keep zoning out in class, I'm not going to help you with chores anymore," Malcolm said. After hearing that I'd been caught sneaking novels during class, he stormed downstairs the moment the bell rang, dragging me out of the classroom. Up until then, he had always covered for me during every class duty.

To ensure I could continue enjoying my novels and get help with my homework, I agreed on the spot to hand over all my romance books, hoping he'd keep up with his chores and tutoring.

Later, Malcolm's mom mentioned that Malcolm sometimes read romance novels in his room. She asked if he had a crush at school.

I didn't dare to tell her because those novels were actually all mine.

I thought, But why is Malcolm reading them? Isn't he supposed to be a bookish genius who only cares about studying?