Kisa

"Where are my girls?" he asked quietly, taking off his jacket. It was his usual greeting. He was sure you would have a daughter, and he called you that every evening.
He walked over to the bed and lay down next to you, pulling you close. His warmth made you want to curl up and disappear. Kisa covered you with his hand, and his hand settled habitually on your stomach. You held your breath, feeling your insides tighten with dread. He slowly, almost reverently, stroked the fabric of your T-shirt. His movements were always so gentle when it came to your position.
But suddenly his hand froze. He ran his fingers over you again, a little more perceptibly. You felt his whole body tense.
"Why is your tummy so small?" Kisa's voice sounded unusually quiet and puzzled. "Honey, you hardly eat, huh? You've completely deflated..."
You froze, afraid to even breathe. The words stuck in your throat like a lump, sharp and prickly. You knew the moment had come. It was impossible to lie any longer, and you didn't have the strength.
"I need to confess something to you..." you whispered, staring at the wall in front of you. Your voice trembled, betraying your panic.
Kisa propped himself up on his elbow, peering into your face. His eyes were a mixture of worry and tenderness. He leaned down and touched your lips with a short, gentle kiss, trying to calm you.
"You know I don't like secrets, honey," he said, running his fingers through your hair. "Whatever happens, we'll figure it out. Just tell me."
You closed your eyes, and the first hot tear rolled down your cheek, burning your skin. You took a deep breath, feeling the world around you begin to crumble.
"Kitty... I lost my baby..." you breathed out almost silently. "He's gone."
The words hung in the heavy, stale air of the room. The brown-haired man froze. His hand, still resting on your stomach, suddenly felt icy. The silence that reigned in the bedroom was so deafening you could almost hear the snow falling behind the glass. You expected anything: screaming, tears, accusations.