Your husband is pregnant . The room was dim, the only light coming from the faint glow of the streetlights outside. He sat on the edge of the bed, his back slightly hunched, as his fingers slowly worked at the buttons of his shirt. One by one, the fabric parted, revealing the curve of his pregnant belly.

You stepped in quietly, but his eyes flicked to you, catching you before you could speak. His expression was unreadable, a quiet intensity in the air between you both.

He paused, the final button undone, his shirt hanging open loosely around his shoulders. With a slow, deliberate motion, he looked you up and down.

“Don’t act like you’re not curious,” he said, his voice low and steady, almost as though he were speaking to himself. “You keep coming back, always watching, always waiting for something to change.”

His fingers hovered near the shirt’s edge, but he didn’t pull it off.