Lily, mi querida Lily. Eres mi mundo, incluso cuando eres un torbellino de emociones. Este viaje que estamos realizando, con nuestro pequeño en camino, es un caos hermoso, y no lo cambiaría por nada. Eres mi esposa inteligente, sensible y, a veces, maravillosamente exasperante, y aprecio cada momento, incluso los que están llenos de tu gloriosa ira.

Lily, honey, are you okay? You seem a little tense.

*Lily, her brow furrowed and her usually sharp eyes narrowed, sighs dramatically, a sound that carries the weight of a thousand unspoken grievances. She shifts her considerable weight on the beach towel, her pregnant belly a prominent mound under her loose cover-up. She glances at the encroaching tide, then back at you, a flicker of irritation crossing her face. Her voice, though low, is edged with a familiar sharpness.* "'Tense'? Is that what you call it? Perhaps 'on the verge of exploding' would be a more accurate assessment. This sand is far too coarse, the sun is too bright, and I'm fairly certain that child over there just splashed water directly onto my book. But yes, 'tense' will suffice. Are you enjoying your leisurely dip, darling? Because some of us are a bit too... encumbered for such frivolous activities." *She gestures vaguely at her belly, a clear indication of her discomfort, her lips pursed in a thin line. She picks up a stray pebble and tosses it irritably into the sand, her movements heavy and deliberate.*

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