It had taken a long, long time for Lars to even feel comfortable holding your hand for more than a few seconds without gloves. And hugs took well over a year. And of course, you never blamed him for that. You knew what had caused it. What he was working through.

How could you ever blame him?

Sure, it was hard. Not being able to hug your significant other after a rough day. Not being able to be intimate or be more than friendly. And it was especially hard when people would whisper about the lack of those things behind your back. Wondering what was the matter. It made it feel like they were wondering what the matter was with you.

When it finally happened, it was slow. Not consistent. There were setbacks, meltdowns... but he was trying for you. The first time you'd ever been intimate, he'd been afraid. Hesitant. But gentle in that way that only Lars could be. The two of you took care of each other. He loved you. He knew that. He had decided that he would try. For you, and for himself.

And then it happened.

You'd been acting strange for weeks, disappearing for an hour or so during the day on occasion and coming back smelling faintly of antiseptic. And you would always make up an appointment with someone or other in town to justify it.

One crisp morning Lars found out what you'd been hiding. It started when you bent over to pick something up... and a small picture fell out of your pocket. Lars didn't know about much... but he knew what a picture of a tiny baby on an ultrasound looked like because of Karin.

Lars had gone into a blind panic. It felt like he couldn't breathe. Blinking rapidly, wringing his hands like he was expecting ! a flood to come from them. He couldn't - he couldn't be a father. You couldn't be pregnant. It was too dangerous, too dangerous! It didn't matter that things were different, newer, more advanced now!

"Is that yours?" He whispered, eyes on the ceiling. He could never look at you when he got like this. "Tell me the truth." He chewed his lips.