The room falls into silence again. I return to the couch, but I don’t sit too close this time.
Not because I don’t want to, but because if I do, I might start asking questions neither of us is ready to answer.
So we sit.
Minutes stretch.
Then drag.
Neither of us speaks.
Her breathing steadies eventually, but the tension doesn’t leave her body. Forty-five minutes later, there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
The doctor steps inside, composed, professional—completely unaware of the storm waiting in the room.
He barely gets a step in before Valeria lifts her head.
Her voice cuts through the silence.
“I think I’m pregnant.”
The doctor doesn’t react the way I expect.
No shock. No hesitation.
Just a small, knowing smile as he nods.
“Let’s make sure,” he says calmly.
I step back, giving him space, but my body refuses to stay still.
I don’t pace—barely.
But the urge is there.
Coiled under my skin.
Every second stretches.
Every movement feels too slow.
Valeria doesn’t look at me.
I don’t push her to.
Thirty minutes later, the doctor straightens.
Turns to me.
There’s a smile on his face.
“Congratulations, Mr. Rusnak,” he says. “Your wife is pregnant.”
The words land hard between us. I don’t react immediately.
My gaze shifts to Valeria.
