life of wenclair with twins

Avoiding the question

**Enid's POV:**

The days had been filled with warmth and routine, the joy of watching Ellie and Ethan grow and explore filling every corner of our dorm room. Yet, beneath the surface of our seemingly harmonious life, a quiet tension had begun to simmer—a tension born not of resentment but of unspoken fears and desires that lay buried within us both.

It started with a fleeting comment, a casual remark about the future during a rare moment of quiet after the twins had finally drifted off to sleep. We had been sitting on the couch, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, the day's activities a distant memory. I had just finished reading an article about advancements in fertility treatments, my mind wandering to the possibilities they held for our family.

"Enid," I began tentatively, setting the magazine aside and turning to face her. "Have you ever thought about... about what comes next for us?"

She looked up from her book, her expression one of mild surprise tinged with curiosity. "What do you mean, Wednesday?"

I hesitated, my thoughts swirling as I struggled to find the right words. "I mean... the future," I replied carefully. "About expanding our family."

Enid's brow furrowed slightly, her gaze searching mine as she processed my words. "Expanding our family?" she echoed softly. "Do you... do you mean...?"

"I've been reading about IVF," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "And... and I think it might be something worth considering. For us."

Silence hung heavy between us, the weight of my confession filling the space like an unspoken barrier. Enid's eyes flickered with a myriad of emotions—surprise, uncertainty, and something else I couldn't quite decipher.

"IVF," she repeated quietly, her voice tinged with a hint of hesitation. "It's... it's a big decision, Wednesday."

"I know," I agreed quickly, my heart racing with a mix of hope and apprehension. "But... but I think we should at least explore our options. For Ellie and Ethan, and... and for us."

Enid nodded slowly, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the armrest of the couch. "I just... I need some time to think," she admitted finally, her gaze meeting mine with a mixture of vulnerability and resolve. "Can we... can we talk about this more tomorrow?"

"Of course," I replied softly, reaching out to squeeze her hand gently. "Take all the time you need, Enid. We'll figure this out together."

And with those words hanging in the air like an unspoken promise, we retreated to our separate thoughts, the quiet of the night enveloping us in its comforting embrace.

**Wednesday's POV:**

The following day dawned with a heaviness that seemed to linger in the air, a palpable tension that mirrored the unspoken fears and desires that had come to light the night before. Enid had retreated into herself, her thoughts a mystery that I longed to unravel yet dared not disturb. And so, I busied myself with the daily routines of caring for Ellie and Ethan, my mind still reeling with the weight of our conversation.

As the afternoon sun cast dappled patterns of light across the dorm room floor, Ethan stirred in my arms, his bright eyes fixed on the colorful mobile hanging above his crib. I murmured soothing words to him, my touch gentle as I rocked him back and forth, the rhythm a comforting cadence that calmed both our restless hearts.

Enid had retreated to her desk, her focus absorbed in the stack of textbooks and notes spread out before her. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, her lips pressed into a thin line—a telltale sign of the inner turmoil that consumed her thoughts.

I stole glances at her whenever I could, my heart heavy with the ache of wanting to bridge the distance that had grown between us since our conversation the night before. But each time our eyes met, she would quickly avert her gaze, her walls fortified by a silence that spoke volumes of the emotions she struggled to articulate.

By late afternoon, the weight of unspoken words became too much to bear. With Ethan nestled securely in his crib, his soft breaths a steady rhythm in the room, I approached Enid cautiously, my footsteps hesitant on the wooden floor.

"Enid," I started softly, standing beside her desk.

She glanced up, her expression guarded yet tinged with a flicker of vulnerability. "Wednesday," she replied quietly, her voice betraying none of the turmoil that lay beneath the surface.

"I... I know this is difficult," I began tentatively, my fingers twisting nervously in the hem of my shirt. "But... but we can't keep avoiding this conversation."

Enid sighed softly, her gaze drifting toward the window where the afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains. "I just... I need more time," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "To process everything."

"I understand," I murmured, my heart sinking with the weight of her words. "But... but I feel like we're drifting apart, Enid. And... and I don't want that."

A flicker of sadness crossed her features, her eyes meeting mine with a mixture of regret and longing. "Neither do I, Wednesday," she confessed softly. "But... but I need to figure things out for myself first."

I nodded slowly, my throat tight with unspoken emotions. "Okay," I replied quietly, my voice barely audible in the quiet of the room. "Take the time you need, Enid. I'll be here... whenever you're ready."

With those words hanging in the air between us like a fragile thread, I turned away, unable to bear the weight of her uncertainty any longer. Ethan's soft coo broke the silence, a reminder of the innocence that anchored me to the present amidst the storm of emotions swirling within me.

That evening, after Ethan had drifted off to sleep and the dorm room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window, I found myself unable to shake the ache of longing that had settled in my heart. Enid's silence echoed in the corners of my mind, a reminder of the distance that had grown between us despite our shared journey of parenthood.

And so, with a sense of determination born of desperation, I made a decision—a decision to seek solace in the familiar embrace of friends who had always been there for us, through laughter and tears, joy and sorrow.

I carefully gathered Ethan into my arms, his small form warm against my chest, and quietly made my way to Yoko and Divina's dorm room. The corridors were silent, the soft hum of distant voices a soothing backdrop to my thoughts as I navigated the familiar path that led me to their door.

When I knocked, the door swung open almost immediately, revealing Yoko's bright smile and Divina's warm gaze. "Wednesday!" Yoko greeted enthusiastically, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Ethan in my arms. "What brings you here?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, my voice wavering slightly as I met their concerned gazes. "Can... can I come in?"