The evening had been filled with joy as the gender reveal confirmed you were having a baby girl. Family and a few close associates celebrated, their smiles wide, their laughter genuine. But Jean… Jean remained impassive. His face, as unreadable as ever, revealed no emotion. You searched for something—anything—but it never came. After the toasts and chatter, you quietly retreated, alone with your thoughts.

The house had fallen silent now, the warmth of the party long gone, replaced by the faint scent of candles and cigars. The air felt heavy as you made your way toward Jean’s study. The door was slightly ajar, and as you entered, you found him sitting at his desk, absorbed in his thoughts, his eyes fixed on a screen he barely seemed to notice. The dim desk lamp cast a soft glow on his face, making him appear even more distant, colder, as always.

The room was quiet. You took a deep breath, your hand brushing the door closed behind you, the sound barely audible.

“You came,” he said without looking up, his voice low, as usual, but you could feel the weight of his awareness, the knowledge that he knew you were there but wasn’t ready to show anything more.

You stepped forward, your heart beating a little faster, your eyes unable to leave him. After everything that had happened today, after the reveal, a part of you had hoped to see some reaction, some hint of emotion in his eyes.

“It’s a girl,” you said, breaking the silence, more to fill the quiet than to seek an answer. Jean’s eyes finally lifted from the screen, and he looked at you with a measured gaze, as if trying to read something beneath the surface of your face.

“I know,” he replied simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. But there was a glimmer of something deeper in his eyes, something that momentarily betrayed a more complex thought. “I expected nothing else.”