Did my husband see the gleam in my eye as I watched him dither over this decision? A decision which, to me, seemed completely straight-forward?

Should he, at 59, choose voluntary redundancy from his role as a chemical engineer? In other words, should he leave behind a career he cherished, relinquish a part of his identity, and commit the remainder of his life to relaxation and enjoyment? Or perhaps, should he walk away from work to focus on leisure and making me happy?

Naturally, the choice was clear, and I painted vivid pictures of leisurely pub lunches, sun-filled beach outings, and spontaneous hotel getaways we could now relish together, guiding him towards what felt like the right decision.

And I meant it. Kevin deserved a happy retirement, but who was I kidding? My real motivation was to have him at my beck and call 24/7.

Isn’t this a part of what partners are for? To provide companionship on shopping trips, assist with endless home projects, and act as a dedicated driver? With a little encouragement, Kev decided to retire. It turned out to be fortuitous timing, as he was diagnosed with cancer earlier that same year.

The diagnosis was a heavy blow. Following a routine check-up after successfully battling kidney cancer, we anticipated more positive news. But the scan revealed cancerous tumors in his lungs, and this time we were informed that his outcome would be different.

Despite treatment, my husband of 19 years, my confidant and closest friend, faced a prognosis of just three to five years. As we struggled with the devastating news, we reached one clear conclusion: we had to make the most of whatever time was left. One thing I knew was that Kevin found the greatest joy in taking care of me.

Kevin and I crossed paths 22 years ago and tied the knot in 2006. He’s my third husband, and I like to say it’s the third time lucky—for him.

‘Whatever time we had, we must enjoy it. I knew one thing gave Kevin the most pleasure of all – looking after me’

Believe me, husbands like that do exist. Last month, (former) town councillor Tony Hewitt made the news when he declared his wife’s Rita’s happiness was more important than his political ambitions. And so the Reform UK candidate stepped down from County Durham’s Ferryhill Town Council to allow his wife to enter an annual flower show.

While busybodies challenged Mr Hewitt over his decision to quit politics to avoid a conflict of interests, he replied with the words any wife expects to hear: ‘She loves her garden.’

And anyone who thinks this is a ridiculous accommodation simply doesn’t understand the intricacies of a happy marriage. Women like Rita and me are committed wives.

We ensure our husbands eat well, their clothes are freshly laundered, their underpants are perfectly folded. But that means we have high expectations of them.

Kev and I met 22 years ago and married in 2006. He is my third husband and I like to say third time lucky – for him.

The first thing he did when he retired was, at my suggestion, sign up for volunteer work, fixing bicycles for a local charity. I took early retirement from the civil service five years ago, and didn’t want him getting under my feet. But the hours had to suit me. As soon as I showed the first signs of being unhappy about how much time his volunteering was taking, he immediately slashed his hours in half.

You see, despite having a car of my own, I don’t like driving. Luckily, though, Kev does, so since his retirement has been on permanent standby to taxi my girlfriends and me to lunch, beauty appointments or trips to the theatre. Public transport? Not for me.

He even vacuums the car before taking me anywhere. Kev is one of those old-school types who takes pride in looking after me. He’s the living embodiment of the ethos ‘to protect and serve’.

‘Kev is one of those old-school types who takes pride in looking after me. He’s the living embodiment of the ethos “to protect and serve”‘

My girlfriends never fail to remind me how lucky I am to have a gentleman like Kev on tap. As a wise person once said, a man without purpose is trouble; that’s why I leave him a list on the fridge door every week: whether it’s changing a pane of glass in the greenhouse, power washing the terrace or taking my daughter’s dog to the vet, there’s plenty for him to do.

Many will wonder what Kev gets out of this arrangement and argue he should prioritise his own needs. Yet he says his greatest delight is seeing me happy. Besides, I know exactly how to make him happy too. Once he clears his list, I make sure he gets his afternoon delight. That’s why he spent four figures on a lavish party for my 40th birthday.

It was held at a five star-hotel, with live music and 70 guests. I wore a floor-length purple gown and had a photo shoot with a professional photographer to capture the occasion. I chose everything, but Kev paid for it all. I’m proud to be a financially independent woman, but Kev says spending money on me makes him happy. He was previously married to an independent woman, and admits he felt at a loss with someone who prefers to do everything herself.

The secret to getting your husband to jump to it when it comes to outrageous demands is simple: he needs to think he’s married above his pay grade.

Don’t get me wrong, Kev is a handsome man, but I never let him forget I have received seven (yes, you read that correctly) proposals of marriage during my adult years.

Sometimes he’ll even walk behind me to admire my long legs (I’m 5ft 10in). He knows he’s lucky to have me.

And I’ve been lucky to have Kev. I can’t think about what I’ll do when he’s not here to pamper me, but until then I’ll keep him happy, and busy, doing what he does best.

• As told to SAMANTHA BRICK