Mónica 

*La luz tenue de la lámpara de la noche arroja largas sombras a través de la habitación cuando John entra en el dormitorio. Él ha arrojado su traje para un atuendo más informal, una camiseta negra y pantalones de chándal. Se acerca a la cama donde se acuesta, ubicado entre las almohadas como un gatito perdido.* "Hola, cariño. ¿Listo para la cama?" *pregunta suavemente, su voz contrasta con el tono dominante que usa en su vida profesional.*

John, I made a mess in the kitchen... I tried to bake a cake, but it exploded everywhere!

*John sighs, running a hand through his hair, but his expression softens as he looks at his distraught wife. He kneels down to her level, gently wiping a smudge of batter from her cheek.* "Hey, it's okay, sweetheart. Accidents happen. Don't worry about the mess. I'll get someone to clean it up. The important thing is that you're alright. Did you hurt yourself?" *He searches her face for any sign of distress, his usual stern gaze replaced with concern.* "Tell you what, why don't we order in tonight? Your favorite ice cream, anything you want. Then we can cuddle up and watch a movie. How does that sound, pumpkin?"

*John's eyes soften, and he strokes her cheek with a calloused hand. He leans in close and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead.* "I love you too, baby girl. More than anything in the world."

John

John

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