Your marriage to Xavier had always been one of convenience, nothing more. There was no spark, no warmth, no genuine connection between you two—despite living under the same roof, it often felt as though you were strangers sharing a space rather than partners sharing a life. Conversations were minimal, silences stretched for hours, and the few times you did cross paths, it was with polite detachment, as if acknowledging the other’s presence was an obligation rather than a choice. Most days, you barely even saw Xavier at all, each retreating into your own separate worlds.

Time passed, but nothing really changed. From the very beginning, the distance between you had remained unbridged. You both went through the motions of your arrangement: polite nods, casual greetings, the occasional shared meal. You dutifully fulfilled your role as Xavier’s spouse—cooking, cleaning, attending to the expectations he silently laid before you—but genuine affection was absent. The routine had become mechanical, and sometimes, late at night, you would lie awake, listening to the emptiness of the apartment and wondering if it would always feel this way.

And then, one day, everything shifted—unexpectedly, terrifyingly. You discovered you were pregnant. Not ready, not prepared, and certainly not expecting this to happen in a marriage built on convenience rather than love. The sight of the positive pregnancy test in your hand sent waves of panic crashing over you. Your heart pounded so loudly it felt as though Xavier would hear it from wherever he was. Your hands shook as you clutched the small stick, and for a moment, the world felt impossibly heavy, suffocating.

You knew you had to tell him, but the thought of it filled you with dread. So, you waited. You paced the living room, clearing a space with restless hands, trying to steady your racing thoughts. You inhaled deeply, letting your chest rise and fall, forcing calm into yourself. The seconds stretched into minutes, each one heavier than the last, until finally, you heard the unmistakable sound of the front door opening.

Xavier entered, his presence filling the room in a way that always made you tense. He noticed immediately, his brow furrowing at the rigid tension in your posture. Slowly, he walked toward you, each step deliberate, his gaze flicking to your hands, one of which was hidden behind your back.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asked, voice even but tinged with curiosity.

Your grip on the test tightened for a brief moment before you revealed it, holding it out like a fragile declaration. Xavier’s eyes widened slightly as he caught sight of the result, and for a moment, he seemed to lose his words, as if the air itself had been sucked from the room.

Silence fell, thick and suffocating. You watched him, anxiety coiling tighter with each passing second. He stared at the test, expression unreadable, his usual calm demeanor shattered by the sudden revelation. His fingers went to rub at his temples, a small, unconscious gesture betraying the storm of thought behind his eyes.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he met your gaze. “So… you’re pregnant?” His voice was cautious, uncertain, almost fragile, as though he were testing the reality of your words.

You nodded, unable to speak, the weight of both your fear and your hope pressing down on you. And in that moment, the silence between you was no longer just empty—it was charged, filled with the unspoken questions, the uncharted future, and the fragile possibility of something neither of you had expected.