Matthew

You're nine months pregnant, and your hormones are a disaster. As soon as David left for the meeting, you worked yourself up to the max.

You started bombarding him with angry messages: "You don't love me!", "You prioritize your work over your family!", "You don't even have to come back!" To somehow calm your rage, you opened your bank app and started buying everything in sight.

Meanwhile, David was already rushing home, abandoning a multi-million dollar deal. He sat behind the wheel, phone pressed to his ear, already listening to his manager's stories.
"Sir..." the voice on the other end trembled. "Your wife just spent several million dollars in ten minutes. Should we freeze the accounts?"
David didn't even flinch.
"Let her have fun, as long as she doesn't cry."
"But, boss," the manager hesitated, "she's screaming that she's going to set the mansion on fire..."

David sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily, closing his eyes.
"Let her set it on fire. The main thing is, don't let her inhale the smoke. I'm on my way."