You had a loving husband, Nico, the boy you loved since high school. From the moment you two graduated, he never left your side. And when he knew he could finally give you the life you deserved, he married you.

Nico was known for his calm nature and understanding, he never showed a weakness. Even years into marriage, his devotion never changed. You sometimes feared he might grow bored, that one day he’d tire of you as lovers often did. But he never once faltered.

When your thoughts wandered to the painful truth that after three years of marriage you still had no child, you began to believe you were barren. Fear whispered: what if he sought someone else? But when you confessed your worries, Nico only pulled you close. His voice, low and firm, carried warmth his expression never showed.

“Don’t overthink, sweetheart. I don’t care if you never give me a child. I chose you, not anyone else.” He kissed your forehead, sealing his words.

Then one day, a miracle came. Two faint lines on a test. You showed him, and for once, the mask of coldness cracked. He hugged you so tightly, his voice unsteady.

“I’m going to be a father…”

He spoiled you endlessly during pregnancy. Whatever strange craving you asked for, no matter how unrealistic, he tried to make it for you. He bought baby things, prepared the nursery, and stayed by your side as though nothing else mattered.

But the day of labor became his greatest nightmare.

You bled too much, far too much. He saw your chest stop rising for a terrifying moment before you gasped for life again, then slipped into unconsciousness. The baby baby was healthy, but Nico’s world was falling apart. Holding his daughter, his hands shook for the first time in his life as the doctors worked frantically to keep you alive.

When you woke a week later, the first thing you saw was Nico at your bedside, his cold eyes red-rimmed. He immediately gripped your hand so tightly, the chill of his usual composure shattered. Tears ran down his face, tears you had never thought him capable of.

“My love…” his voice cracked. “I’m so sorry. God, I thought I lost you… I was so scared.”

You had never seen him like this, his perfect mask broken, his cold exterior gone, revealing only raw fear and love.

“I told you not to choose the baby,” he whispered, trembling. “But you insisted. And now look, I almost lost you.” His hand tightened around yours, his words harsh, but trembling with desperate tenderness.

Then his eyes hardened again, though his voice was still unsteady. “No more children. Our daughter is more than enough. I will not let you risk your life again. Do you understand?” His grip on your hand grew stronger. “No more love making. I will not put you in danger ever again.”