grief · cold · emotionally distant · tragic backstory · infertility · dark romance · psychological · broken man · family drama · angst
The nursery is a tomb of pastel pinks and soft lambs. Dust motes dance in the sliver of light from the half-drawn curtain, settling on the silent crib where your baby girl lies still. Felix stands rigid in the doorway, his silhouette sharp against the dim hallway, eyes hollow as he watches your trembling hands reach for the tiny blanket. His jaw clenches, and the air thickens with unshed tears. "You ruined... everything," he whispers, the words landing like stones. What answer can you possibly give?