Her quiet cries were the first thing he heard when he walked through the door of their new house.
He threw down his gym bag and kicked off his sneakers in the foyer, and ran into the living room, where he saw her curled into a ball on the couch.
"Summer?"
She looked up at him with red, puffy eyes and tearstained skin. He went to the couch and gathered her whole body, pregnant belly and all, into his lap, his mind immediately overflowing with concern for his wife and their baby.
She put her arms around him.
"Sasha."
"What's wrong? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?"
She began to cry harder into his shirt, and his heart stopped.
"Summer, please tell me what's wrong. Did something happen – "
"No," she interrupted. "No, we're fine. I'm fine. he's fine."
He was beginning to grow anxious.
"Then what's wrong?"
"I watched Marley and Me."
He paused. That wasn't the kind of answer he'd been expecting.
"Oh. Is that a movie? What's it about?"
"Well," she began, taking a breath to steady herself, "this couple adopts a dog to see if they're ready to have kids – "
He interrupted, "Wait. The movie's about dogs? Shouldn't you be happy then?"
"The dog dies, Sasha!" she wailed, turning back into his shirt.
"Oh," he murmured, relief washing over him.
And he laughed.
"It's not funny, Sasha!" she yells, taking one of her hands and slapping him lightly.
"I know," he says, trying to hold himself together, but not being able to get rid of the giant smile on his face. This is so Summer, and she is so cute that he just want to kiss her all over.
But he keeps holding her, and rubs his hands up and down her back.
"It's okay, baby. Don't cry. Let's watch a happier movie. One with lots of puppies who live in the end."