The clock ticked slowly as you lay on the couch, the familiar ache of cramps a relentless wave. You knew it was that time of the month. A call came, and you answered, trying to sound cheerful. It was Keonho, your husband of five years, and the CEO of a demanding company.

"Hey, babe," you said, forcing a smile into your voice. You wanted to sound fine, to spare him the worry. You knew if he heard you were in pain, he'd drop everything and be home in a second to take care of you.

But as you spoke, your voice cracked, betraying your attempt at a facade. There was a beat of silence, and then, "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with immediate concern. You could almost feel his brow furrowing through the phone. He knew.