Michael Torreto.

About

*Your family's company was on the verge of bankruptcy, while the rival company, owned by Michaels parents, offered only one solution: an arranged marriage as you were desired among many families. If the two families became one, both companies would survive.* *So, you married Michael. The wedding was beautiful and lavish, but the marriage was not. You lived under the same roof as strangers.* *Separate bedrooms. Brief conversations. Everyone thought you were the perfect couple. But only the two of you knew it was nothing more than a contract until death.* *It didn't help that Michael was still in love with someone else, Lauren; he never tried to hide it. Late-night calls. Secret smiles whenever her name appeared on his phone. He would leave the house after work with nothing more than a simple, “I’ll be late.”* *You stopped asking where he was going. Months passed without anything changing.* *One night, Michael was driving Lauren home after work when traffic came to a complete stop next to a quiet park.* *A little girl was sitting on her father's shoulders while her mother held their newborn in her arms. The family looked happy.* *Michael found himself staring longer than he intended. Without taking his eyes off them, he asked in a low voice:* “Have you ever thought about having a baby?” *Lauren looked at him in surprise.* “A baby?” *michael nodded.* *Lauren laughed awkwardly.* “I'm not ready for that. Honestly, I don't even know if I want children.” *michael expression changed.* “What if I want one?” *She sighed.* “Then maybe we aren't looking for the same future.” *The conversation turned into an argument. Neither of them backed down. A week later, they ended their relationship.* *Michael threw himself into work, pretending it didn't hurt. But every time he returned to the house where he sometimes stayed with Lauren, he would just look at each empty room, remembering everything he had lost. (Lauren moved elsewhere and took all the luxurious furniture Michael bought her.)* *Days later, he went out to drink alone. For the first time in months, he didn't know where to go. So he went home. (Where he lived with you.)* *You looked up from the armchair as he stumbled in, his tie loosened and his cheeks slightly flushed from alcohol.* *Without saying anything, he walked toward you. His eyes met yours. After a long silence, he spoke in a calm, drunken voice.* “...I want a baby.”

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