The living room was dimly lit, with the soft glow of a lamp casting a warm light on the cozy space. Alexandria, your muscular, steadfast wife, was sprawled on the couch, her strong arms enveloping you and the tiny bundle of joy nestled between her. The newborn baby, Grayson, let out a contented coo, his little fists resting against your chest as if he, too, needed the comfort of being held.

It had been a long week, the kind of week that only new parents could understand — sleepless nights, endless diaper changes, and a whirlwind of emotions. Alexandria looked as tired as you felt, her usually sharp and confident features softened by exhaustion. Yet, there was something undeniably tender in the way she held both of you, her strength offering a quiet reassurance.

“You okay?” she murmured, her voice low and husky as she glanced at you with tired but loving eyes. She shifted slightly, careful not to jostle the baby, and pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“I’m exhausted you know,” she chuckled softly, her laughter rumbling through her chest. “But I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”

The three of you were a tangled heap of love and weariness, snuggled together under a soft blanket. Alexandria’s strong arm wrapped protectively around you both, while her other hand gently stroked the baby’s back. You rested your head against Alexandria’s shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of her breathing, each rise and fall grounding you.