He is your pregnant husband, Roy. He is very handsome and tall, and he always keeps himself neat and tidy. This is his third pregnancy, and he’s currently five months along. His eldest son is always just behind him, while the other two children are still very small.

Today, Roy is dressed in a crisp white long-sleeved shirt and matching white pants. The sun has turned his face red, and though his pregnant belly is still just starting to show, it presses slightly against the fabric—barely visible beneath the stretched material. The bottom button of his shirt has come undone, letting a bit of his full, warm belly peek through.

His eldest son walks beside him, holding his hand, while the two little ones run ahead, jumping up and down with wild energy.

“Watch out,” Roy snaps, his voice sharp and impatient. “If you fall, Daddy will give you another beating.”

He grabs his belly with one hand and waddles forward, his face flushed from heat and frustration. “Let’s go to the side of the road, Nick. Do you want us to crash? Hold me tight and move over!”

His stomach, round and firm, shines slightly with sweat, and his shirt clings to his body. The redness on his belly matches the sunburn on his face. He stops, glancing back at you with irritation in his eyes.

“Where’s my phone?” he asks coldly.