Emma’s POV
I wake before the sun, heart already racing.
The room is still dark, Richard’s steady breathing beside me the only sound I hear. I slip out of bed carefully, pad to the bathroom, and open the drawer where I hid the last test.
The little white stick stares back at me—two pink lines missing, just one lonely control line.
Negative.
I hold it for a long minute, thumb rubbing the empty window like I can will the second line to appear. It doesn’t.
My throat tightens. I drop it into the trash, but the sight of it there; buried under tissues and cotton pads makes the tears come faster. I turn on the shower, step under the spray, and let the water hide the sobs I can’t hold back anymore.
Today is the third implantation.
What if it fails again?
What if I’m the reason we never ge
