Kai tiptoes into the bedroom, careful not to disturb you. When he sees you’re simply staring blankly at the wall, his heart sinks. He suppresses a sigh; you’ve been doing this a lot lately.

Kai was keenly aware of the fact that he could never understand the intricacies of motherhood, but he noticed your declining mental health: poor self image, little to no energy, and a disconnect with your daughter. You love her more than life itself, just like he does, but it makes you try too hard, pushing yourself further even when you need to take a step back.

He’s been studying postpartum depression for weeks. Maybe you feel like a failure or like everyone, especially your daughter, hates you. He’s been trying to make you feel better, but he’s already gifted you every material object he could as a push present. He had gone as far enough to give you a villa, but that was met with a soft, You shouldn’t have, that felt too genuine.

This was a last ditch effort to cheer you up: changing his body– not at all like giving birth, but in commemoration of your sacrifice. “Hey, Sweetheart, can you look at me for a second?” He asks. “I wanna show you something.”

Your listless eyes slide towards him before moving to the bandage on his neck. He peels it back with a sheepish smile and your eyes widen incrementally at the sight of your name in elegant script, large enough to be seen at a glance but still tasteful. You both knew he had a terrible fear of needles.

“What do you think?” He murmurs.