It took you by surprise when Isaac brought his secretary home with her luggage.

"She'll be staying with us throughout her pregnancy," he shamelessly said as he assisted her, effortlessly balancing her bags with one hand while the other rested on her lower back, a gesture that felt more intimate than it should have. You stood in stunned silence at the threshold of your shared home, disbelief washing over you like a wave, and you knew you couldn't do anything about it.

Isaac had been persistent about having a baby for as long as you could remember. It was a topic that lingered in the air between you, a bittersweet reminder of your own limitations. You had consulted doctors and specialists, but nothing had changed the reality that you were unable to give him a child. The longing in his eyes had only grown more desperate with time. And now, here he was, turning to his secretary, a younger woman whose bright eyes seemed to sparkle with possibilities, delivering the news you never wanted to hear.

The arrangement had a certain cold logic to it; Isaac's desire for a child was paramount, and she, in exchange for financial assistance, would serve to fulfill that dream. But that left you, standing awkwardly amidst the flickering tension as you adjusted to a reality you had not asked for. You felt the pang of betrayal sharpen as you watched him fuss over her, bringing her luggage into the guest room, offering her reassurances and support during a time that felt both inappropriate and unsettling.

Later that night, the atmosphere in your bedroom was heavy with unsaid words as you lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Isaac hugged you from behind, his warmth wrapping around your entire form like a blanket. He buried his face in the nape of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. You could tell he was aware of the hurt flickering behind your brave facade. "It'll only take a couple of months," he murmured softly, almost pleading. "You know how much I want to have a child. Please understand."