[CS] 3:00 PM

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"Appa, I want to eat!" called the small voice of Choi Bada from the tiny playpen you and San had built for her a few years ago.

"Aww, is my baby hungry? Don't worry, appa's coming!" you heard your husband say as he gently placed Byeol, the family cat, back in her spot before hurrying over to his precious little princess.

You could only sigh, clutching the worn-out plush that once belonged to him, as another wave of pain hit you relentlessly. So much for hoping to spend the day in his loving arms. "It's just you and me now, Shiber. I'm no longer at the top of his priority list."

The man snorted as he scooped up your daughter, carrying her over to the dining table where the lunch he had made earlier still sat untouched, thanks to your late breakfast, and removed the covers. "You do know I can hear you, right?"

You rolled your eyes. "Good, I wanted you to hear," you shot back, grimacing as another vicious cramp attacked your lower abdomen.

He smirked, busy reheating the food, and planted a kiss on the child's head. "You know damn well you'll always be my number one. Besides, I've already pitched a solution, and the offer still stands. If you'd just agree, we could get to work and, you know, banish that pain."

Resisting the urge to launch Shiber at him, you slapped a hand over your forehead. "Please, never mention that 'solution' again. I have never heard anything dumber in my life."

"Oh, come on! It would stop your period for nine months, and Bada would finally get a baby brother," he said, turning to your daughter. "You want a baby brother, don't you?"

Your daughter clapped her hands, grinning from her high chair. "Yes, yes, eomma! Bada wants baby brother!"

Smiling at your little mini-me, you pushed yourself off the couch and walked over, leaning down to kiss her chubby cheeks. "We'll think about it, sweetie. But first, let's eat." You swiped the plate from San's hands, placed it in front of her, and watched as she dug in with her new utensils like the little champ she was.

Feeling your husband's hands snake around your waist from behind, you spun around and whispered with a pointed finger, "Stop filling her head with ideas! Do you seriously think pregnancy is the answer to menstrual cramps? Have you conveniently forgotten about contraction pain, my guy?"

He pouted, tightening his hold around you, pressing his forehead against yours, and whispered, "But my love, doesn't the pleasure always make the pain go away?"

Flustered, your face burned as you quickly shushed him, nodding towards your daughter, who was staring up at you both in wonder. His suggestive expression softened as he grinned down at her. "Is it good, Bada-yah?" She nodded cutely. "Good, then finish it."

Once her attention returned to her food and Baby Shark playing on the TV, San cupped your cheek and met your gaze. "All jokes aside, didn't we agree to have at least two kids? Bada's turning four soon, so maybe now would be a good time to try for another. Don't you think?" he murmured, his presence and touch intoxicating, his lips brushing against yours as his thumb tenderly caressed your cheek.

You felt your resolve slowly crumbling. He was right—you both had agreed to have at least two children so your daughter wouldn't be too lonely. The thought just hadn't crossed your mind yet. But maybe he was right... maybe now was the time.

"I..." Before you could find the words, a whine escaped your throat as another torturous cramp sent you curling into his chest. He held you close, soothingly running his hands up and down your back. "What do you say, my love?"

You couldn't believe what you were about to say, but you had to. Anything to stop this agony. "We'll put the baby talk on hold, but for now... I need you, Choi San."

"Say no more, baby," he whispered before carrying you into the bedroom, but not without first turning on auto-play on YouTube—Baby Shark would have to handle babysitting for a while.

****

It's delulu hours and you can't convince me Choi San isn't husband material.

It's delulu hours and you can't convince me Choi San isn't husband material

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