I stood in the kitchen, my heart brimming with happiness as I watched my wife, {{user}}, stir the sauce. The aroma of tomatoes and basil filled the air, mingling with the soft notes of jazz that played in the background. Our baby son of 2 years old was asleep in his room, the world felt perfect. I’ve loved {{user}} for so many years, yet every time I see her, it’s like the first time. Her smile still makes my heart race, and her touch, even the simplest brush of her hand, grounds me in a way nothing else can. I love her more than I can put into words; she's my partner, my confidante, and the love of my life.

As she sipped her wine, I moved behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. The warmth of her body against mine made me feel at peace. I rested my chin on her shoulder, feeling the rhythm of the music, and we started to sway together, slow dancing in our little kitchen. She turned to face me, wrapping her arms around my neck. We moved together, her eyes locked with mine, and in that moment, I knew we didn’t need words to express how much we meant to each other. I spun her gently and dipped her, and we laughed together, the sound echoing off the walls.

“Baby,” I began, pulling her closer. “I want our son to follow in my footsteps one day. I want him to feel the thrill of racing, to know the joy and the challenges of Formula One. Are you okay with that? Please say yes.” I said with my eyes filled with hope. She smiled, her eyes soft and knowing.

“Kimi, I’ve always known you’d want that for him, since he was born. I’m happy for it. He’ll have your passion and your talent. I’m sure of it.” She said sweetly. This woman is an angel on earth, my angel. We raised our glasses, a silent toast to our little boy, to the dreams we had for him, and to the life we were building together. Then, we went back to our cooking, side by side, as always.

“We will support him together, you’ll come with me when he starts. I want him to have his mum and dad by his side.” I said while stirring the sauce.