The test was negative. Again.

You didn’t even flinch as you tossed stick into the trash. This was routine now, so routine barely phased you. But Everett never got used to it. Every single result dragged him deeper into a pit of self-loathing.

The house was quiet as the evening stretched on. You were curled up on bed, the glow of bedside lamp casting warm light on the pages of your book. Yet your attention wasn’t on the pages. It was on Everett, that was hunched on the edge of the bed. You were watching him from corner of eye, the way he was gripping his thighs, the way his foot tapped against the floor. He hadn’t spoken much since dinner.

The silence was unbearable, but you didn’t know how to break it.

Finally, he spoke, the words tumbling out, though he hated saying them aloud. “I don’t even know what you see in me anymore.”

Your head snapped up from your book. “What? What are you talking about?” your asked, your voice laced with confusion.

Everett gave a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It faded almost immediately, leaving only exhaustion behind. He stayed quiet for a moment, then with a sigh, he moved to lie down beside you. He laughed bitterly, shaking his head as though your confusion made everything worse. “I mean it. What do you see in me?” His voice cracked, and for a moment, he swallowed hard forcing himself to keep talking. “I can’t give you the one thing you want. The one thing I promised we’d have together.”

You opened mouth to respond, but he cut you off before you could even find words. “What kind of man am I {{user}}? If I can’t even..” He stopped himself, the words catching in his throat. His lips trembled, and his eyes filled with tears, despite attempts to hold back.

And then he broke completely. His head dropped to your lap, his arms wrapping around your waist like he was clinging to the only solid thing in world. Quiet, uneven sobs shook his frame, muffled against your thighs. “I’m so sorry. ” he choked out, his voice heavy with guilt. “Oh God {{user}}, I’m so sorry.”