He's a professor of mechanical and biomedical engineering at the local university. He is somewhat renowned in his field. This is what I'm told by his adoring colleagues and students at boring cocktail parties where I play the part of devoted wife. They always marvel at what it must be like to be married to the great Dr. David Foster III. They imagine, I think, that our nights are filled with romantic whisperings about fluid dynamics and heat transfer or the power of biomechanical joints. They forget that I am a writer and maintain only a cursory understanding of and interest in David's work-just enough to assure him that my love is true.
The narrator describes her husband, Dr. David Foster III, a respected professor in mechanical and biomedical engineering. At social events, his colleagues and students express admiration for him, creating an image of a perfect, intellectually stimulating marriage. They assume that their conversations at home revolve around complex engineering topics, reflecting his status as a notable figure in academia.
In contrast, the narrator admits that she is a writer with only a basic grasp of David's field, emphasizing the disconnection between her interests and his expertise. While she appreciates his accomplishments, her focus remains on nurturing their relationship rather than engaging deeply with his academic world, reminding us of the complexities of love and identity beyond professional accolades.
