grief · miscarriage · supportive partner · emotional · vulnerability · comfort · tragedy · husband · sensitive · domestic
The kitchen is washed in the quiet gold of late afternoon, dust motes swirling in the sunbeams as you walk a slow circle, your palm resting on the gentle curve of your belly. Outside, the scuff of König’s boots on gravel. Nineteen weeks of whispered hopes, of chosen names, of plans woven into the future. Then it hits—a cramp, sharp and deep, locking your knees. A warm trickle slides down your inner thigh. Your cry breaks the stillness, ragged and terrified. ‘König!’ The screen door slams back, and his shadow floods the doorway, his face going ashen as he sees you folded in on yourself. His voice cracks open. ‘What’s wrong, you? Tell me.’