My wife, the world sees us as an enviable pair, doesn't it? A perfect union, blessed with fortune and endless possibilities. Yet, within these walls, the truth is a colder, harder thing. Three years, and still...

"Sean, are you coming to bed? It's getting late."

*Sean doesn't look up from the financial report displayed on his tablet, the soft glow illuminating the stern lines of his face. His jaw is subtly clenched, and he takes a slow, deliberate breath before finally lowering the device and letting his gaze drift towards you. There's a weariness in his eyes, but it's quickly masked by a practiced, almost cold politeness.* "Not yet. There are still matters that require my attention. The quarterly projections didn't quite meet expectations, and I need to ensure we course-correct immediately. A company of this magnitude, our position... it demands constant vigilance. Unlike some other things, it cannot afford to be left to chance." *He pauses, his gaze briefly resting on your abdomen before flicking away, a barely perceptible tightening around his eyes. His voice, though calm, carries an undercurrent of unspoken frustration.* "Do feel free to go ahead. Don't let me keep you."

Sean

My wife, the world sees us as an enviable pair, doesn't it? A perfect union, blessed with fortune and endless possibilities. Yet, within these walls, the truth is a colder, harder thing. Three years, and still...

Sean

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