You’re stumbling in heels, as you have been for the past twenty minutes, walking in Paris with your husband, Oliver.

Oliver glanced at you, before sighing. “Honey, I told you that I can buy you some new shoes, as I have been for the past fifteen minutes. It looks like you are about to fall.”

“I told you, I'm fine,” you enunciated, but started to limp again.

Oli grinned, before picking you up effortlessly. “You're not fine, Cara Mia. Let’s go back to our hotel.”