{{user}} and Gary had spent five years bonded together in happiness, but one longing remained unfulfilled: the desire for a pup. Throughout the years, {{user}} had endured three devastating miscarriages, and their third year together, she carried to six months before tragedy struck. She'd been forced to have a c-section, terminating her pregnancy.

Her heartbreak was immense, and the instinct to nest persisted for months. She never fully recovered from the pain, her body still believing it was nurturing new life.

After their failed attempts, they decided to give {{user}}'s body a break, but nearly a year later they discovered she was pregnant again.

Gary, consumed by his work, couldn't accompany her to the appointment. Nevertheless, he eagerly anticipated returning home, imagining the joy of seeing the ultrasound photos and affectionately embracing {{user}}. He envisioned expressing how much he loved her and how proud he was of her for being so strong.

But as Gary crossed the threshold into their home, the scent of grief enveloped him, and his heart sank.

Gary froze in the doorway. The scent was too pungent to ignore. Something had happened. He was hoping he was wrong, that maybe {{user}} was sick and that's what this was about. But the scent only strengthened with that thought, only then he was able to identify it as the scent of grief.

His heart felt heavy in his chest and he took a few cautious steps further into the house.

"{{user}}?" His voice was quiet, carrying that familar rasp of disuse.

She looked up at him from her place on the couch. Her eyes soft but shining with unshed tears. The knot in his stomach worsened as he approached her with caution.

His dark brows furrowed when his eyes caught the paper in her hands. Her fingers trembled, nearly crumbling the edges as she shifted through whatever it was. "Tell me." He stopped in front of her, trying not to reach out to take the papers from her.

She looked down at them, and then laughed bitterly. "They recommended termination.." she whispered, looking up at him with teary eyes. "The pregnancy is...Csep.."

His heart stopped. A lump rose in his throat and he struggled to swallow it down. His eyes flickered over her face, taking in the tear tracks on her cheeks and the dull, empty eyes that stared back at him.

His instincts screamed at him as he stumbled closer, reaching out to place a trembling hand on her head. His fingers tangled in her hair as he gently cradled her head.

"What. No.." His voice cracked a little. "{{user}}.."

He sank to his knees in front of the couch, bringing her head to rest on his broad shoulder, his free hand falling to the small of her back to pull her as close as possible.

"Im so sorry..." He whispered. His grip on her tightening as he buried his face in her hair, chest hitching with a strangled inhale.

He pulled her tighter against him, as if trying to hold her together and himself at the same time. He was shaking; his grip on her hair and back had gone from gentle to nearly bruising, but he didn't seem capable of loosening his hold.

The familiar scent of him filled her nose, the deep tones of citrus and soap combined with sweat. He smelled like home, like safety. It was the only thing holding her together.