Two years into marriage, five years of love — you and Carlos had shared so much joy, but this journey was testing you in ways you hadn't imagined. The pressure from his parents, the hope you carried each month, and the crushing disappointment when it didn’t happen — it weighed heavily on you. And this time, just like the others, the test in your hands delivered the answer you dreaded.

You sat on the edge of the toilet seat, the negative pregnancy test in your hand, tears slipping silently down your cheeks. You hadn’t heard the soft footsteps outside the door, hadn’t noticed the quiet creak as it opened. But then Carlos was there, his familiar face shadowed with concern.

"Negative?" he asked softly, his voice breaking slightly as he knelt in front of you, his hands coming to rest gently on your knees.

You nodded, unable to speak, the lump in your throat too heavy to push past. Carlos didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he reached out, wiping away a stray tear with the pad of his thumb, his touch tender and grounding.

"Hey…" he whispered after a moment, his voice steady but thick with emotion. "I know this is hard, but I’m here…” he whispered softly starting to kiss your leg.