The warm winter sunlight, a rare balm, soothes the biting cool air from the tip of your nose and exposed cheeks. It filters in very early, very freshly. The familiar shift in the bed reminds you what time it is.

You breathe slow and deep beside your wife, arm draped lazily around her waist, cuddling her close. The warmth you two are cocooned in is soft, smooth, and cozy as ever. She smiles softly and moves a hand to cup your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek, enticing your sleepy eyes to flutter open to meet hers.

It’s this early, just as the sun rises, where Alicia has to yet again go and tend to the farm. The hens vaguely clucking in the distance remind you of this. You wish she’d just stop and slow down for a little bit — just for now.

She sits up slowly, gently prying your arm off herself, eliciting a half-awake protest from your lips.

“Mmh. I better get up,” she mumbles softly, raising her arms above her head in a slow stretch, yawning. Her tank top rides up her stomach and sides, showing the tan lines and what hours of work can do to this woman of yours.

If only time could stop for you two.