"Yesterday, I happened to read online about the risks of pregnancy after forty, both for the mother and the baby. And I won’t hide from you that I felt ashamed. What right do we have to take such a risk when we are ready in every way to become parents? Happy, financially comfortable, in love. I don’t see any reason to delay it any longer," comes his straightforward reply.
His irritation gives his face a masculinity that Savina continues to find irresistibly attractive, even after eight years of marriage. She looks at him with adoration. "You’re doing the right thing, my dear, and you don’t see the reason. Once you’re driving, you have to look ahead, and the reason we’re delaying having a child is sitting next to you," she jokes, trying to ease the tension thick in the car. "As you know, I took on the extremely demanding position of Senior Curator B at the clinic three weeks ago, and I need some time to adjust to my new responsibilities before we move forward with something as important as bringing a new life into the world."
"It takes time! Exactly what we don’t have…" he mutters through his teeth as if talking to himself. Savina frees her feet from her shoes, places her bare soles on the passenger seat, and hugs her knees, letting out a deep sigh. "I see! So suddenly I seem old to you! Let me remind you that before we got married, I didn’t hide from you that I love my job; on the contrary, I made it clear that motherhood is something I would like to leave for much later. I’ll also remind you that you told me you respect my wish and that you would never pressure me to get pregnant. What changed, Sarantos?" she asks, her gaze fixed ahead.