“It’s fine,” I said quietly.
The words tasted like ash in my mouth. But they were expected. They were what he wanted to hear. And just like that, the tension in his body eased.
“That’s my good girl,” he said, satisfaction lacing his voice.
Something inside me cracked.
“By the way,” he added, shifting slightly as his hand rested over my stomach, “what was the result?”
My chest tightened.
“The baby,” he clarified. “What are we having?”
For a moment, I hesitated. Not because I didn’t want to tell him. But because I already knew. I knew what his reaction would be.
Still, I answered.
“A girl.”
The silence that followed was subtle. But I felt it. His hand stilled. His body, once relaxed, became rigid behind me.
“Oh,” he said after a moment.
Just that. Just one word. But it carried more weight than anything else he could have said.
I slowly opened my eyes, staring blankly at the wall in front of me.
“I see.”
His voice had changed. It wasn’t warm anymore. It was distant. As if the child growing inside me had suddenly become less important. Less valuable.
I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing down the wave of emotions threatening to rise.