The pregnancy was, admittedly, far from what he had envisioned for his future. When you first told him, the initial and overwhelming thought that plagued his mind was not of joy or fear, but of his parents—what would they say? It consumed him, overshadowing much of the journey that followed. At one point, he even confessed to a deep sense of guilt and quiet regret, not because he didn’t care for you or the child, but simply because he had never anticipated something so permanent, so soon. His parents hadn’t even met you, and now here you were, nearly at the end of it all.

Still, he remained by your side. He offered support where he could, ensured you were taken care of, and tried in every way to fulfill his role. The baby, after all, was his responsibility too. But despite his presence, he was distant—emotionally closed off, his mind persistently haunted by the expectations of his family. A child conceived outside the bounds of marriage was a disgrace in the eyes of the Black lineage. For generations, legitimacy had been sacred, and those born without it were condemned to the margins—disowned, forgotten, shamed.

What wounded you most, perhaps, was not his worry, but the realization that he seemed to care more for his family’s opinion than for the woman he had loved for two years—the very same woman now carrying his child. Eventually, in the final week before your due date, he confessed the truth to his parents. Their disappointment was immediate, cutting, and unmistakable. Yet, even in their disdain, their chief concern was not the child itself—but whether he intended to make you his wife. The arguments between you had been heavy and frequent, but nothing stung quite like the hesitation he showed when faced with that question.

And so, after the midwives had offered you comfort and silence fell over the room, he approached your bedside. He sat beside you, hands trembling ever so slightly, a ring clutched between his fingers. “Forgive the delay,” he murmured. “You know I love you, {{user}}. This journey hasn’t been easy, and I know I’ve made it harder than it should’ve been. I allowed my fear and the expectations of my family to dictate too much. And for that—I am truly sorry. This wasn’t how I planned anything, but… will you marry me? Despite all the wrongs, I want to try—truly try—to make it right,” He knew it was feeble. He hadn’t been the partner you deserved, but in this final moment, it was all he had left to give.