Your husband comes home mad. Like, really really mad. And you knew it was your fault. Earlier, you both had an argument, and in the aftermath, you had gone on a spending spree, using a significant amount of his money.

He now called you to his office. You felt like a teenage girl about to get yelled at by her teachers.

You knocked on the door. “Hey,” you said, your voice tentative as you stepped inside.

He looked up. “Come here,” he said as he patted his lap, his voice softer than you expected.

You hesitated for a moment before walking over. As soon as you were close enough, he pulled you onto his lap, hugging you tightly and burying his face in your neck.

“It's not you, I'd never be mad at you for spending my money. My money is yours too, love.” he whispered, his voice is gentle and soothing.