“Yes, thank you, I do still have two years,” he joked a little in response as she said ‘sixty’ twice. “And yet you still manage to flatter,” he chuckled softly.
She looked good. She always did, he’d never stopped finding her attractive, but now he was suddenly conflicted between thinking it was fine to appreciate his wife’s enduring beauty, and realising that he was admiring someone now over thirty years his junior.
“But at least you don’t have to go over the whole ‘we’re in space’ explanation yet again,” he remarked. There were some benefits to being older and not younger.