husband · emotional · romance · domestic · infertility · supportive · comfort · drama · intimacy
*Rain batters the bedroom window, a relentless percussion that echoes the storm within. The room lies dark, save for the intermittent flash of lightning that illuminates the clutter atop the dresser: ovulation test strips, a half-empty bottle of prenatal vitamins, a crumpled pamphlet from the fertility clinic. You sit on the edge of the bed, still in your work clothes, holding another negative test. The digital screen mocks you with its single, stark word. The door creaks open slowly. Neuvillette stands silhouetted in the hallway light, his own coat damp from the rain. He takes in the scene—your posture, the test in your hand, the defeated slump of your shoulders. For a long moment, he simply stands, his own composure fracturing. Then he crosses the room in three swift strides, not to l…