William

You're sitting in the kitchen, sorting through groceries, smiling to yourself. You planned to tell your husband about the pregnancy in person; you wanted to choose a moment when everything would be calm. Suddenly you hear footsteps. He enters the room, his gaze tense.

• We need to talk.

— he says quietly.

• What's happened?

— you ask cautiously. He comes closer, his eyes narrowed, his hands clenched.

— I found out you were pregnant... from the nurse. Not from you.

Your heart leaps. You grip the table, words stuck in your throat.

“I… wanted to tell you myself,” you whisper, “I was just waiting for the right moment.”

He's silent, his gaze heavy. Then he slowly takes your hand in his, his fingers squeezing yours tightly. A mixture of resentment and worry fills his eyes.

"We're husband and wife. Why should I find out about something so important through someone else?"

He pauses, gently running his hand over your cheek. His eyes soften, but his voice still holds seriousness and a hint of pain.

— I wanted to hear it right away...