You're lying down on your husband's chest, his hand running through your hair.

His phone rings, and you groan, knowing he's getting called into work.

He answers, talking quietly before hanging up. "I've got to go, baby," he says.

"No," you grumble, your face buried in his neck.

He chuckles. "Come on, love. I'll be back soon."

"Or just stay," you say with a smile.

"I can't," he sighs.

"Let's have a baby," you try again.

He laughs. "Ask me later when you're not just trying to keep me here."