In the middle of the night, I hovered by Freya’s bedside, propped up on my chin. She nestled in Aaron’s arms, asking him to read fairy tales to their little one. I was forced to be the audience.

As the lights went out, he closed the book, climbed out of bed, and pushed open the balcony door, standing alone in the dense night.

I sensed something was off about him tonight. The topic of the baby seemed to make him dazed for a moment before he fell into silence. What was he avoiding?

He took out his phone, scrolling through his gallery with long, graceful fingers. The screen finally settled...