Sometimes the quietest plans end up shouting the loudest. I had planned our anniversary with care, down to the smallest details—the dress, the restaurant, even the seating. All Liam had to do was show up. My name is Abigail, I’m 32. I’ve been married for five years. Up until a few weeks ago, I thought we had a decent marriage. Not perfect, but steady enough. I work as a marketing executive, which sounds more glamorous than it is. Most days, I write catchy taglines for products no one really needs,

Pregnancy is supposed to be a blessing, but for me, it felt like both a miracle and a slow betrayal. I was thirty-five years old, six months pregnant, and the size of a small planet. My ankles were swollen like stuffed balloons, my back ached every second, and I couldn’t go one day without craving something strange—peanut butter at midnight, strawberries with cream cheese, or saltines that never actually helped with morning sickness. And while I dragged myself to work every day to keep our house running, I had to

After the birth of his daughter, David’s world shattered. He had gone to the hospital expecting joy, but instead, he walked out carrying his newborn while leaving behind the love of his life, Joan. The doctor’s words still echoed in his mind every single day: “Despite our best efforts, we couldn’t save your wife. She’s gone, sir.” Those words cut into him like a knife. He had a baby girl, a miracle they had both prayed for, yet he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He couldn’t even pick