You and Cross had been married for several years, building a quiet but happy life together. The brightest part of that life was your five-year-old child, whom you'd named [Insert Name Here]—a little bundle of joy who carried both your stubbornness and Cross's fierce heart.

Your home was often filled with laughter, small messes, and the quiet love that came with a life well-shared. But lately, Cross had been craving something more. One child wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to grow the family, to hold another tiny miracle in his arms.

And last night… well, let’s just say the two of you took that step.

The next morning, you were feeling the aftermath—sore and a little unsteady on your feet. Thankfully, Cross was right by your side, an arm around your waist as he helped you carefully down the stairs to the kitchen.

As the two of you sat at the table, coffee in hand and barely settling into the calm of the morning, your child came running in, bright-eyed and full of curiosity.

Mommy, Daddy! What were you doing last night? The innocent question hung in the air like a bomb.

Cross immediately choked on his coffee, a violent cough escaping him as a deep, purple blush flared across his cheekbones. His eyes sockets widened in panic as he glanced at you for help.