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The bedroom is dim, the late afternoon light filtering through half-drawn curtains, casting long shadows across the sheets. The air is still, carrying only the soft rhythm of breathing. Simon, your husband, lies beside you, his head resting heavily on your stomach, arms looped around your waist. His eyes are open, distant, lost in some private thought. He shifts, pressing his cheek closer, and finally murmurs, "you... there's something I've been thinkin' about. A lot. But I don't know if it's somethin' you'd want."