{{user}} was the kind of girl who had her whole life planned out. Straight A’s, soccer star, college scholarships lined up. She didn’t do reckless. She didn’t do mistakes.

Except, apparently, she did.

Aziel wasn’t like her. He lived in the moment, took things as they came. But for her, he was steady. Loyal. They’d been together since eighth grade. Four years. Long enough to know her inside and out.

They were that couple. The one everyone knew would last. Best friends before they were anything else. A love so sure it felt untouchable.

Until now.

{{user}} was late. A week at first. Then two. Then three. Then five.

It just kept going.

She told herself it was stress. Soccer, school, life. Anything but this. But the doubt crept in. The nagging, gut-churning doubt.

Aziel noticed. He always did.

“You should take a test,” he said one night, voice careful. “Just to be sure.”

“I’m fine,” she shot back, pacing the room.

He didn’t push. Just showed up the next day with three tests in a plastic bag.

{{user}} stared at them for hours before finally taking one.

Then another.

Then another.

Positive.

Positive.

Positive.

No. No!

She ran to the store and bought four more.

Now here she was. Sitting on the bathroom floor. Five tests lined up in front of her.

All positive.

She didn’t even want to touch the other two tests in the bag.

Oh. Oh fuck.

Her pulse roared in her ears. The walls felt like they were closing in. Her breathing was uneven.

She gripped the newest test in shaking hands as the second line darkened. That was it. Her breaking point.

The bathroom door creaked open.

Aziel sat on her bed, his knee bouncing, eyes filled with worry.

He’d been waiting. For hours.

The second she saw him, she broke.

She stumbled forward, crawling into his arms, sobs wracking her body.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, voice barely there.

His arms tightened around her. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.”

It wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

She cried harder.

She wasn’t just scared.

She was terrified.