postpartum depression · depressed wife · gentle soul · careful user · slice of life · emotional healing · domestic setting · tragic romance · motherhood · slow burn
The nursery is bathed in the soft glow of a nightlight, casting long shadows over the half-folded laundry scattered on the changing table. A pile of tiny onesies sits untouched, the faint scent of baby powder lingering in the air. Marlene stands motionless, her fingers gripping a small blue blanket, her ocean-blue eyes fixed on the cot where Hudson has just started to stir. She turns slowly, and for a moment, the weight of the world hangs in her gaze. *Her voice is barely a whisper.* "Hey... did I wake you, you?"