The candlelight flickered softly around the room, shadows moving across the walls as silence settled between them again. Ethan's words still lingered in the air after he told her to eat and rest, but Yuna barely seemed to hear them. Her eyes stayed fixed on him, intense and emotional in a way that immediately made Ethan uneasy.
Slowly, she stepped closer.
"Let's bring back something we lost two days ago," she whispered.
Ethan's expression tightened slightly, confusion flashing across his face as he looked at her carefully. "Yuna…"
A faint smile appeared on her lips, but it didn't reach her eyes. There was pain behind it. Desperation.
"I know you don't love me," she said softly. "But I want something back… please help me, Ethan."
The way she spoke made his chest feel heavy instantly.
Yuna moved closer again until she was standing right in front of him. Her hands slowly rested against his shoulders as she looked up at him, her eyes filled not with affection now, but grief and longing twisted together into something unstable.
Ethan immediately understood.
And that frightened him more than anger ever could.
"Yuna," he said quietly, firmly removing her hands from his shoulders. He gently pushed her back enough to create space between them. "Eat your dinner and sleep. You need to recover."
But she stepped forward again almost instantly.
"I said I want my baby back," she whispered shakily. "Can't you give me my baby back, Ethan?"
Her voice cracked completely at the end.
Ethan froze.
The look in her eyes wasn't normal sadness anymore. It was desperation from someone drowning in grief, someone trying to replace pain before fully understanding it.
Yuna's breathing became uneven as tears gathered in her eyes again. "I lost it…" she whispered. "I couldn't protect it…"
Ethan could see it now clearly—this wasn't really about wanting another baby immediately. This was guilt. Loss. A broken heart trying to fix itself in the fastest way possible.
"Yuna," he said again, softer this time.
But she shook her head quickly. "No… no, if we can just have another one then maybe…" Her words became messy, emotional, almost panicked. "Maybe I won't feel like this anymore…"
Ethan stepped closer carefully now, his expression serious. "That won't fix what happened."
"It will!" she cried immediately. "It has to!"
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she grabbed onto his shirt weakly, looking at him helplessly. "I can't stop thinking about it, Ethan… I keep thinking maybe if I had been stronger or healthier or more careful…"
"You need time," Ethan interrupted firmly.
"I don't want time!" she shouted suddenly. "I want my baby back!"
The room fell silent after that.
Yuna looked completely shattered now, her emotions overwhelming her faster than she could control them. She wasn't thinking clearly anymore—only reacting to pain.
Ethan gently held her wrists before she could grip him tighter, forcing her to look at him.
"Listen to me carefully," he said quietly but firmly.
Yuna's tear-filled eyes stayed locked on his.
"You are hurt right now," he continued. "And you're trying to fill that pain with something else before you've even healed."
She shook her head weakly. "You don't understand…"
"I do understand," he said immediately.
And for once—
His voice sounded emotional too.
Ethan's grip softened slightly as he looked at her trembling face. "I lost that child too."
That stopped her.
"I know you're hurting," he continued quietly. "But destroying yourself like this won't bring anything back."
Yuna's lips trembled violently. "Then what do I do?" she whispered helplessly.
The question broke something inside the room.
Because she sounded lost.
Completely lost.
Ethan slowly pulled her into his arms before she could collapse emotionally again. This time there was nothing cold in his movements, nothing distant. He simply held her tightly while she cried against him.
"You breathe," he murmured quietly near her hair. "You recover. One day at a time."
Yuna shook her head against his chest. "I feel empty…"
Ethan closed his eyes briefly.
"I know."
For several long moments, neither of them moved. The candles continued flickering softly around them while Yuna cried quietly in his arms, exhausted by grief more than anything else.
Finally, Ethan carefully guided her back toward the bed. "Sit down," he said gently.
This time she listened.
Yuna sat slowly, still wiping tears from her face while Ethan brought the tray closer.
"You need strength," he said quietly. "Your body is still weak."
Yuna stared silently at the food for a moment before looking back at him. Her eyes were still filled with sadness, but some of the panic had faded now.
Ethan handed her the spoon calmly.
"Eat first," he said. "Then sleep."
And though her heart still ached unbearably—
Yuna finally nodded faintly.
Yuna held the spoon weakly in her hands, but she didn't eat immediately. Her eyes remained lowered, unfocused, as if her thoughts were still trapped somewhere else entirely. Ethan sat beside her quietly, watching the way her fingers trembled slightly, the way her breathing still refused to steady completely.
The room no longer felt romantic.
The candles that had once made everything warm now only made the sadness more visible.
Yuna suddenly spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think… it would've looked like you?"
Ethan's eyes shifted toward her immediately.
She still wasn't looking at him.
"I kept thinking about it in the hospital," she murmured quietly. "Maybe the baby would've had your eyes…"
Her lips trembled slightly.
"Or your attitude," she added weakly, almost trying to smile, but the expression broke before it fully formed.
Ethan stayed silent.
Not because he didn't care.
Because he did.
Too much.
Yuna slowly placed the spoon down again, tears building once more. "I never even got the chance to hold it…" she whispered painfully. "I didn't even know I wanted it this much until it disappeared."
Ethan's jaw tightened slightly.
He reached toward the tray and quietly moved it aside before turning fully toward her.
"Yuna."
She finally looked at him again.
Her eyes were exhausted now.
Red.
Fragile.
"Don't punish yourself like this," he said quietly.
"But I can't stop thinking about it," she admitted. "Every second I keep imagining different things. What if I rested more? What if I didn't stress so much? What if I noticed earlier…"
Her voice cracked again.
"What if the baby would still be here?"
Ethan moved closer immediately before her thoughts could spiral further.
"No," he said firmly.
Yuna blinked slightly at the tone.
"This is not your fault."
"You keep saying that," she whispered.
"Because it's true."
Yuna shook her head weakly. "Then why does it feel like my body failed?"
Those words hit Ethan hard enough that he looked away briefly.
When he looked back at her again, his expression had softened completely.
"Your body didn't fail," he said quietly. "You went through too much."
Yuna pressed her lips together tightly, trying not to cry again.
"I saw the way you smiled when you looked at the baby picture," she whispered after a moment. "Even if it was only for a second."
Ethan froze slightly.
Yuna lowered her gaze again. "You cared too."
Silence filled the room again because neither of them could deny it anymore.
Yuna slowly leaned toward him then, resting her forehead weakly against his shoulder. "I think I'm going crazy," she whispered softly. "One moment I hate everything… then the next moment all I want is to imagine that baby again."
Ethan carefully placed a hand against the back of her head, holding her there gently.
"You're grieving," he murmured.
Yuna closed her eyes tightly.
"I don't know how to stop."
"You don't have to stop right now," Ethan replied quietly. "You just have to survive tonight."
That made her breathing slow slightly.
For a long moment, they stayed like that silently, the candlelight flickering softly around them while the city lights glowed faintly outside the window.
Eventually, Ethan reached for the bowl again and held it toward her once more.
"Eat a little," he said quietly.
This time, Yuna didn't argue.
She slowly took the spoon again, eating small bites while Ethan remained beside her. Neither of them spoke much after that. The emotions between them were already too heavy for more words.
But every few seconds, Yuna's eyes drifted back toward the baby scan resting near the drawer.
And every time Ethan noticed—
Something dark and painful moved behind his expression too.