Emily used to think love was unshakable once it was tested. She’d believed that about her marriage, that no disappointment, no silence, no slow erosion of hope could undo what she and James had built. For years, that belief had kept her steady. Even when the house started to feel too quiet. Even when the test results kept saying not this time.
They’d been trying for three years. Every month was another circle on the calendar, another heartbeat of hope that ended in quiet defeat. She cried sometimes, but never in front of him. James didn’t like to talk about what hurt. He’d just hold her hand, say next time, and stare past her at the television.