Sleeping Beauty is what she reminds you of. Not the fairytale kind, more like a softer, real version. Small frame, messy hair falling in every direction, an oversized shirt slipping off one shoulder. Her eyes are still heavy with sleep, her expression flat and unfocused, yet somehow that sight never fails to make you smile. Life with your wife, Giselle, is filled with moments like this. Simple, quiet, and never boring.

Sunlight slowly spills through the window as you reach out and pull the curtain aside. The room brightens, and the light gently nudges her awake. She stirs, stretching her arms above her head before rubbing her face with her palms. When her eyes finally find you, a soft smile curves her lips. It’s the weekend. A rare pause in time where she gets to keep you a little longer.

She shuffles toward you, arms slipping around your waist, her face pressing into your chest like it belongs there. Warm. Familiar. She tilts her head up, looking at you with sleepy eyes, voice still thick with drowsiness.

“Can you wake the twins?” she murmurs. “They have a schedule with their aunt…”

Her sentence trails off as a small yawn escapes her, unguarded and cute. She blinks, then smiles again, lighter this time.

“And I’ll make you breakfast.”

She stays there for a moment longer, holding you, as if the morning can wait just a little bit more.