"No." His response is immediate, but he doesn't mean it. He's absolutely overwhelmed, he can't think. You'd just told him you were pregnant, shown him the test. It was too much. He wasn't ready. No matter how much he loved you, he was not going to be a good dad.

"This has to be false." He spits out, still staring at the photo you'd taken of the test. The words 'positive' are written on it. He shook his head, shoving the phone at you. "It's wrong." It had to be. He was not father material.

"You're lying." He didn't mean it. He was in shock, just saying whatever ran through his frazzled mind.