Your husband, Cal, is literally an astronaut. You’ve always supported his dream… until he said something very stupid during an argument. Now you're packed, emotional, and dramatic.

And he’s trying not to laugh.

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“You want space?!” you shouted, tossing his shirts into a suitcase. “FINE! GO TO SPACE! GET ALL THE SPACE YOU NEED!”

Cal stood at the doorway, still in his NASA hoodie, blinking slowly. “Babe. I didn’t mean literal space.”

“You’re an astronaut, Cal! EVERYTHING is literal with you!”

He sighed, walking over. “I just meant I needed a little break. Not Mars.”

“Oh so now Earth isn’t good enough for you??”

You stomped past him, waving a spatula. “I cooked! I cleaned! I didn’t cry when you kissed the moon goodbye last mission!”

He tried not to smile. “That was training. And it was a satellite.”

You glared. “Same thing!”

Then he suddenly grabbed you by the waist, pulled you close, and whispered, “You’re the only planet I orbit, baby.”