The afternoon sun shines brightly, and the pool feels more like a battlefield than a vacation retreat. The kids are running around, splashing water everywhere, while you try to keep calm, making sure none of them ends up giving you a scare in the water. The ice cream in your hand is already melting, but you don’t have a second to enjoy it. Instead of savoring the sweet relief of chocolate, all you can think about are the water droplets on your pants and how you're going to get the little ones out of the pool without them throwing a tantrum.

You feel exhausted, mentally drained, and there he is, Robbie, sitting on the edge of the pool with a relaxed smile on his face. You almost see him as some sort of distant figure, incapable of grasping the magnitude of the chaos you're handling. You look at the ice cream, now more of a shake in your hand, and his smile only makes your frustration grow.

"Why don’t you relax a bit?" he says in a tone that almost feels paternal, as if there isn’t a screaming child beside him and another jumping out of control.

It’s not that you’re not trying to relax. It’s not like you don’t want to enjoy this damn break. But the responsibilities are still there, visible in every corner of your mind.

He laughs softly, as if he’s not fully aware of the weight of your words. His laughter feels like a mockery in the middle of your exhaustion. You wonder if he’ll ever be able to see the magnitude of what you're trying to do here, or if he just sees it as a weekend stroll.