He’s her Prince Charming here to rescue her.
He puffs up his chest and pulls out all the stops, plays every card he has to impress her.
They’re obsessed with each other.
Picking out curtains, breakfast in bed. Cute text messages all day long.
3rd year: A baby.
She’s tired, drained.
He’s tired. Stressed.
She’s lost herself. Angry. Exhausted. Overwhelmed. Does all she can to keep a home, or keep a home and her job.
He’s caught up at work all the time. Just away. Miserable. Bored. Frustrated.
She’s trying her best to be Supermom. Laundry piles everywhere. Frozen dinners and drive thru meals.
Roots showing, chipped nail polish.
Her mojo is gone. She’s out of time.
He’s lonely. He can’t find his wife. He doesn’t look for her in the kids’ room. He doesn’t look for her in the laundry room. He only looks for her in the bedroom and she isn’t there. So he lays on the bed and waits.
She never returns.
Supermom appears in her place. Only Supermom has been beaten. Her cape is in shreds. Her spirit is broken. Day after day has worn her down.
He looks in her eyes and asks “Can you bring me a sandwich and send in my wife?”.
She rescues herself.