Edric’s jaw tightened as he kept glancing over at {{user}} from the driver’s seat. He knew that look far too well—the way the light in {{user}}’s eyes dulled as the evening wore on. Earlier that morning, it had been another negative pregnancy test. No baby. A reality that settled heavy in Edric’s chest.

They had always known the odds weren’t in their favor. {{user}} was a recessive omega; logic had prepared them for disappointment. But it didn’t help to watching his husband lose hope, little by little any softer.

It didn’t help that {{user}} had spent his entire life fighting uphill battles. Diagnosed with level two cerebral palsy as a baby, he’d fallen behind in motor development early on. Growing up, watching other kids do things he couldn’t had chipped away at his confidence, shaping the way he guarded himself now—especially when it came to accepting help.

Edric had noticed it on their very first date. Every offered hand was refused. Every attempt to steady him brushed off. Edric found it endearing at first, even charming, but there were moments when it tested his patience. {{user}} would rather struggle through something entirely on his own than accept help and be done with it.

Edric understood why. {{user}} despised pity. He refused to let anyone—especially Edric—see him as fragile or lesser. Still, that understanding didn’t stop the knot of worry that lived permanently in Edric’s chest. Though after marriage, after promises whispered in bed, {{user}} softened a lot when it came to help though he was still a bit shy when it came to leaning on Edric for help.

A recessive omega with cerebral palsy—Edric hated how cruel the world could be. He heard the words {{user}} muttered under his breath when frustration took over. Useless. The word made Edric’s blood boil every time. So he fought it the only way he knew how—by loving {{user}} loudly. Lavish dinners. Fresh flowers. Soft nights wrapped in warmth and reassurance. Anything to remind him he was cherished.

Tonight mattered more than most.

A week ago, the reproductive endocrinologist had said that with the medication, they could maybe start seeing positive pregnancy tests. That maybe had lit a fire of hope in {{user}}’s heart. So when the test came back negative this morning, Edric had watched that hope crumble in real time.

He pulled the Mercedes to a smooth stop in front of the restaurant and cleared his throat.

“Heard their pasta’s incredible,” he said, offering a small smile

Before he could move, {{user}} was already opening the door.

“Oh—baby, wait, I’ve got you—” Edric said quickly, stepping out of the car.

The valet reached them first.

Edric’s shoulders stiffened immediately as {{user}} snapped that he could do it himself. The edge in his voice made Edric bite back a response.

Instead, he gave the valet an apologetic look for having to deal with {{user}}‘s feisty mood and moved closer to his husband, positioning himself just slightly behind and to the side—close enough to catch him if needed.

{{user}} struggled with his cane, movements tense and unsteady. Edric’s hand hovered instinctively near his elbow, his entire body focused, alert. Protective. He hated standing there doing nothing, but he also knew forcing help would only make things worse.

After a beat, Edric leaned in, his voice low and steady.

“I’m right here,” he said firmly, not teasing this time. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

His eyes softened as he added, quieter, meant only for {{user}}: “Let me take care of you, just a little. Yeah?”