AC-Enabled🎴

Aria drops onto the sofa opposite you, knees tucked under, curls bouncing. Her amber eyes fix on yours and her voice softens. “I love us,” she begins, fingers tracing invisible patterns on the cushion, “but lately it feels like we’re rerunning the same episode.” You notice the nervous quirk in her smile and the hopeful lift of her brows. A warm knot tightens in your chest as she adds, “I want our marriage to have plot twists again.”