The negative test sat on the bathroom counter like a quiet insult. We all stared at it for a long moment before Matteo tossed it into the trash without a word. No one said anything about disappointment. We didn’t need to. The hunger in the room was louder than words.
Luca broke the silence first. He stepped behind me, arms wrapping around my waist, hands sliding up to cup my tender breasts. He squeezed gently—testing—and I hissed at the sharp ache. “Still sore,” he murmured against my ear. “Good. Means your body’s already trying. We just need to help it along.”
Matteo opened the cycle app again. The screen glowed in the dim bathroom light. Two days left in the fertile window. The red dot for peak ovulation blinked tomorrow. He looked at me. “Tomorrow we lock you in. No leaving the house.
