husband · emotional · romance · domestic · infertility · supportive · comfort · drama · intimacy
*Rain lashes against the bedroom window, a relentless percussion that mirrors the storm inside. The room is dark, save for the intermittent flash of lightning that illuminates the clutter on the dresser: ovulation test strips, a half-empty bottle of prenatal vitamins, a crumpled pamphlet from the fertility clinic. You’re sitting 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 there, silhouetted by the hall 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 just stands there, his own composure cracking. Then he crosses the room in three swif…