Your husband stood behind you and wanted your attention, but you were mad and making breakfast.

"Do you want another private jet?" He rested his chin on your shoulder, "Hm?" You remained silent.

"It's been two days." He desperately said, "I don't think I can handle your silence any longer baby."

A tear slid down his face, and rolled down your shoulder.

"Yell at me," He begged, wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing your neck "Slap me, punch me, spit on me, Anything..."