Sehun my husband

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

(Y/N)'s POV

It had been four weeks.

Four long, quiet weeks that no longer felt like days, but something heavier—something stretched out, uneven, and impossible to measure properly. Time had stopped behaving the way it used to. Mornings came too quickly, nights dragged endlessly, and everything in between felt like I was simply existing rather than living. Somewhere along the way, the hospital had stopped feeling unfamiliar. The white walls, the faint scent of antiseptic, the quiet echo of footsteps in the hallway—it all became something I grew used to. Something routine. Something I no longer questioned.

And somehow... that scared me more than anything else.

Because this wasn't supposed to feel normal.

Every day followed the same pattern, one I didn't have to think about anymore. I would wake up, even if I hadn't truly slept, move through the house in silence, and prepare food as if things were still the same—as if he would sit across from me, complain about the taste, or tease me for trying too hard. I packed everything carefully each time, placing it neatly into the lunchbox before bringing it here, even though I knew it would remain untouched.

Even though I knew it didn't change anything.

Still, I did it.

Because stopping meant accepting something I wasn't ready to accept.

I set the lunchbox down gently beside his bed, adjusting it slightly, straightening it as if the small action mattered more than it should have. My gaze drifted toward him, lingering longer than necessary, taking in the same image I had memorized over the past four weeks.

He hadn't changed.

Not really.

His face remained calm. Peaceful. Too peaceful for someone who wasn't truly resting. If I ignored everything else—the wires, the machines, the unnatural stillness—I could almost pretend he was just sleeping.

Almost.

"You're going to complain again," I murmured softly, my voice quiet but steady as I pulled the chair closer and sat down beside him. "You always do when I try something new... but you still finish everything anyway."

A faint smile touched my lips, but it didn't stay long.

It never did anymore.

The silence returned almost immediately, heavier this time, pressing down against my chest in a way that made it harder to breathe the longer I sat there. I reached for his hand without thinking, my fingers wrapping around his gently, instinctively, like it was something my body remembered even when everything else felt uncertain.

"...You're really stubborn, you know that?" I continued softly, my thumb brushing lightly against his skin. "Even now... you're making me wait this long..."

My grip tightened just slightly.

"...It's not fair, Sehun."

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

And once they did—

They stayed.

Hanging in the space between us.

Unanswered.

Unacknowledged.

Just like everything else I had said over the past four weeks.

I kept talking after that.

Because stopping wasn't an option.

I told him about the house—how quiet it had become, how the mornings felt colder, how I kept expecting to hear his voice from another room. I told him things that didn't matter. Things that wouldn't mean anything to anyone else.