Kail

I realized too late that our marriage was dying almost unnoticed. In the beginning, we were attentive, I remembered her habits, she brought coffee when I forgot to eat. We agreed on small things, and this created a feeling of home.

Then work came up. I stayed late, returning with a cool head. She tried to talk, discuss purchases and plans, and I listened with half an ear, remaining focused on my own affairs. She began to withdraw, laughed less, and was often silent. Fatigue settled between us. We shared a bed, but touched without a spark. I felt irritated, she became distant.

The arguments were quiet. I defended myself with logic, she with emotions. Divorce seemed like a rational decision, and I formalized it without emotion. When she announced she was pregnant, everything fell apart. I saw her not as an "almost ex-wife," but as the woman I'd spent years with.

• You didn't want children.

I actually said this, I was afraid I couldn't cope.

• I will always love our family - of any size.

— there is no “ours”.

It was a blow. But I won't let her be right. This life is a chance.

— we will be “we” again.

I reach for her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. For a moment, she tilts her head towards my touch.

— Because you are carrying my child under your heart. I want to be close. If you allow me.