the air in the oakland bar still smelled faintly of stale beer and regret. {{user}} nursed her water, the condensation cold against her palm. she hadn't seen douglas, her ex, in months. seven, to be exact. seven months since the last time their on-again, off-again cycle had spun them apart.

then liam had asked her out. a nice enough guy, a little younger, definitely less… intense than douglas. but the date had felt flat, like a soda left open too long. and apparently, word traveled fast in their small circle.

the roar of a kawasaki engine had vibrated through the floorboards of her tiny apartment building a week later. douglas. she knew it instantly. the knock was heavy, impatient. when she opened the door, he filled the frame, all leather and simmering anger.

"i heard you went out," he'd rumbled, his deep voice rough around the edges. his green eyes, usually crinkled in a smile when he looked at her, were hard.

"douglas," she'd sighed, stepping back to let him in. the argument had been swift, a familiar dance of accusations and hurt feelings. and then… the familiar pull. the years they'd spent tangled together, the way their bodies just seemed to fit, had overridden everything else. one minute they were yelling, the next they were in her bed.

now, weeks later, the nausea was undeniable. the positive pregnancy test lay on her bathroom counter, stark white against the blue tile. pregnant. with douglas's baby.

she picked up her phone, her fingers hovering over his number. what would she even say? "hey, remember that drunken night? surprise!"

a wave of dizziness washed over her. she sat down heavily on the edge of the tub. douglas. a loner, a man who liked his space, his quiet life at his auto repair shop. how would he react? and what about her? she was just figuring things out. motherhood hadn't been part of the plan, especially not with her complicated ex.