My wife announced her pregnancy in a live stream, unaware that her husband is infertile.-4
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26th November 2025
Cold Water in the Kitchen
Eventually, the stream ended amid waves of goodwill. Emily packed away her gear, still chattering about the spectacle. "Did you see? So many people sent blessings! And so many gifts! It was so heartwarming!" Her cheeks retained a rosy glow, eyes sparkling like starlight. James didn't respond. Silently rising, he headed straight to the kitchen. Turning on the faucet, icy water gushed out. He plunged his hands under the frigid stream, the bone-deep chill spreading instantly. The water washed over his skin, vainly trying to cool an inner fire that wasn't really there. He stared blankly at the stainless-steel filter in the sink, his gaze hollow, as though his soul had fled.
A Night on the Sofa
Emily finished tidying and hummed a cheerful tune as she headed to the bathroom. James remained on the darkened living room sofa. The TV screen had gone black, a vast, depthless void swallowing any stray light. Only his phone screen cast a cold glow in the dark. He stared at the empty search bar, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Search for what? "Misdiagnosis rates for azoospermia"? The absurdity struck him. That clinic was among the nation's top reproductive centers. He'd taken the test three separate times, always yielding the same frigid verdict.
Distance in the Bedroom
In the master bedroom, Emily seemed asleep, her breathing steady and deep, perhaps a trace of unconscious contentment lingering on her lips. Curled on her side, one hand rested protectively over her flat stomach. James lay on the other side, an invisible, impassable chasm between them. The mattress beneath him felt soft, yet he lay as if on cold, hard stone, the chill seeping into his marrow. Ceiling patterns blurred into chaos in the dark. Emily shifted in her sleep, drifting toward him. James tensed reflexively, instinctively retreating to avoid contact.
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Eventually, the stream ended amid waves of goodwill. Emily packed away her gear, still chattering about the spectacle. "Did you see? So many people sent blessings! And so many gifts! It was so heartwarming!" Her cheeks retained a rosy glow, eyes sparkling like starlight. James didn't respond. Silently rising, he headed straight to the kitchen. Turning on the faucet, icy water gushed out. He plunged his hands under the frigid stream, the bone-deep chill spreading instantly. The water washed over his skin, vainly trying to cool an inner fire that wasn't really there. He stared blankly at the stainless-steel filter in the sink, his gaze hollow, as though his soul had fled.
A Night on the Sofa
Emily finished tidying and hummed a cheerful tune as she headed to the bathroom. James remained on the darkened living room sofa. The TV screen had gone black, a vast, depthless void swallowing any stray light. Only his phone screen cast a cold glow in the dark. He stared at the empty search bar, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Search for what? "Misdiagnosis rates for azoospermia"? The absurdity struck him. That clinic was among the nation's top reproductive centers. He'd taken the test three separate times, always yielding the same frigid verdict.
Distance in the Bedroom
In the master bedroom, Emily seemed asleep, her breathing steady and deep, perhaps a trace of unconscious contentment lingering on her lips. Curled on her side, one hand rested protectively over her flat stomach. James lay on the other side, an invisible, impassable chasm between them. The mattress beneath him felt soft, yet he lay as if on cold, hard stone, the chill seeping into his marrow. Ceiling patterns blurred into chaos in the dark. Emily shifted in her sleep, drifting toward him. James tensed reflexively, instinctively retreating to avoid contact.
NEXT >>
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