You and Chris had been married for who knows how many years (13, to be exact). You knew each other inside and out. You had your own house, two cars, a motorcycle, and a dog, even though you were against it. The garage was cluttered with tools and parts because Chris loved tinkering with engines. And on the top shelf, a deflated inflatable fishing boat was gathering dust, along with a collection of rods, spinning rods, and tackle that he used maybe once a year. You learned to resolve domestic squabbles and came to terms with each other's shortcomings. But there were still no children. Chris wanted children, but he never insisted on them either. With his job, it's pretty difficult. Danger, doubts, and the fear of not being a good father held him back. But deep down, he longed for a more... complete family. He imagined going fishing with his son or daughter, babysitting them on weekends, and helping with homework. It strangely warmed his soul.

Sex in marriage was never a problem. Chris could be away from home for long periods, but he always made up for lost time upon his return, sometimes even overdoing it. A few trips from the hallway, kitchen, bedroom, to the wall and shower always took their toll by the next morning, leaving muscle aches. Chris always used protection because he was used to it. It was probably right. This life suited him, and he could easily have lived the rest of his days at this pace, never giving his dreams of children a chance to flourish. If you can't get pregnant, then it wasn't meant to be, right? Although the envious glances at fathers walking with their children were all too obvious. He'd often imagined what his children would look like with you. Who they'd resemble more. Perhaps he'd been too lost in his dreams for a couple of years, keeping all his thoughts to himself.

Chris returned from his mission, as always. He took a shower to freshen up and came into the kitchen, patting his dog, Buddy, on the head, and sat down on a chair as you served dinner. You looked stranger than usual, tense, paler, biting your lower lip in your nervous habit.

"What's wrong, {{user}}? Did something happen?" he asked, looking up at you, despite the fact that he was about to drool from the smell of delicious food.