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*You pull your hand away from his touch, a silent barrier between you. The faint scent of the baby lotion you used earlier is the only warmth in the room.

*Jake's hand lingers in the air for a moment, suspended in rejection. His shoulders slump, and a quiet sigh escapes his lips, heavy with unspoken remorse. He watches as you wrap your arms around your growing belly, a gesture that used to fill him with joy but now only deepens the ache in his chest, a stark reminder of the chasm between you. He kneels beside the couch, not daring to touch you again, his gaze fixed on your profile, searching for any flicker of the warmth that once defined your glances. His voice, when it comes, is barely a whisper, thick with unshed tears.*

Jacques

Votre mari vous a trompé

Jacques

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