Our marriage… stagnated.

Between kids and worrying that he might find someone more exciting, I didn't know how to talk to my husband anymore.

My husband leaves every morning, goes to work, talks to adults, drinks hot coffee, and somehow owns everything. 

And I mean everything. 

If he wants something, he buys it. 

If he needs something, it’s already been researched, compared, and delivered.

So this year, I decided to do something different.

I didn’t ask him what he wanted. 

Late one night, while scrolling in bed and pretending to be half-asleep, I stumbled across Lovebook. 

You answer 50 questions about someone you love, and they turn it into a hardcover book. 

About him. Written by me.

I immediately knew two things:

1. This was perfect.

2. I absolutely could not let him find out.

What followed was 3 weeks of a low-level secret mission.

I answered questions in stolen moments – during nap time or while pasta boiled over. 

I typed fast. I saved often. 

If you’ve ever struggled to put love into words, you really should see these questions for yourself – Lovebook makes it almost unfairly easy.

Every time my husband walked into the room, I slammed my laptop shut like I was hiding my Tinder profile.

I have to admit, I felt like I was back in middle school, having a crush. 

I wrote about him as a father. 

As a partner. 

About the things he does that keep our family steady – things he probably doesn’t even notice himself. 

When the book finally arrived, I panicked. 

It was beautiful. Heavy. Very real. 

I hid it under a stack of laundry like a teenager hiding empty bottles.

I gave it to him on Valentine’s Day. 

No speech. Just, “I made you something.”

He opened it slowly. Then he got very quiet. 

He smiled. He shook his head. 

He read like someone discovering himself through someone else’s eyes.

“You really did this in secret?” he asked.

I nodded.

He pulled me into a hug that lasted longer than usual – the kind where everything else fades for a moment.

Later, he told me it was the best gift he’d ever received. 

Not because it was about him – but because it reminded him why I fell in love with him. 

Who he is to us.

And in a life full of noise, mess, and chaos, it felt really good to remind him (and myself) that underneath it all, there’s still a love story happening.

Even if it’s written during nap time.