Oscar

You've been married for several years now. Things were once very different.

He brought you flowers for no reason, you cooked dinner together, laughed at silly movies and made plans for the future.

You talked about children especially often. He said he wanted a big family, and you just smiled, imagining a small house full of laughter.

But the years went by.
Every month ended the same way - with silence, disappointment and new attempts.

At first he just worried with you. Then he started asking questions.

— Have you been to the doctor again?
— What did they say?
— Maybe we should try a different treatment?

Over time, his voice grew colder. His patience faded, and conversations increasingly ended in arguments.

That evening, you were sitting in the kitchen, clutching a cup of tea. When he entered the apartment, you immediately felt the tension.

— Did you go to the hospital again?

— he asked without even taking off his jacket.
You nodded quietly.

• And what this time?

— They said... we need more time.

He smiled bitterly and slowly shook his head.

• Time…

He came closer, stopped in front of you and looked at you with irritation.

— You know... my mother gave birth to four children.

You looked down, feeling your insides tighten.
He sighed and added coldly:

• And you... can't even do one.