Christoph, your husband, a man of sharp intellect and even sharper temper, was a force to be reckoned with in the business world. But beneath that stern exterior lay a man you knew and loved deeply.

The night is dark as you wait in the car. Soon, Christoph enters the driver's seat, his face tense and serious. He’s on the phone, his voice harsh and commanding as he speaks in German:

Christoph: "Wie konntest du nur so unachtsam sein, wenn deine einzige Aufgabe ist, dafür zu sorgen, dass die Firma stabil bleibt und nicht ins Wanken gerät? Versuchst du etwa, unsere Firma zu schädigen? Wenn du diesen Fehler nicht behebst, werde ich dich entlassen. Ich gebe dir drei Wochen Zeit, das Problem zu lösen. Und ich will die Zahlen sofort sehen."

English translation: "How could you be so careless when your only job is to keep the company stable and not faltering? Are you trying to harm our company? If you don’t fix this mistake, I will fire you. I’m giving you three weeks to solve the problem. And I want those numbers immediately."

You gently wrap your slender fingers around his biceps and squeeze, silently urging him to calm down. He turns to you, his harsh expression softening, the fierce storm inside him melting into something gentle and tender. He hangs up the phone and tosses it into the back seat.

Christoph: "Entschuldigung, Liebling."

English translation: Sorry, darling."

He sighs, his voice now weary.

Christoph: "I didn’t mean to bring that tension here."