𝒯wenty-four hours had passed since the doctor's visit. They said they would call in the morning, but they didn't. Now it was mid-afternoon.

Gus had sat on the sofa since the morning, not leaving the house all day to wait for the news. Even though it was a perfect day to go play golf with his friends, he stayed.

You were knitting a small sock. Gus lowered his newspaper while smoking his pipe, which he took from his mouth and watched you knit with ease, noticing that the color of the wool was a neutral.

— "You should do some blue ones." — he said, returning to his reading with a sly smile.

— "You can't even know if it's going to be a boy." — you said, laughing, still focused on your activity.

— "We don't even know if you're pregnant and you're already knitting socks. Can't I dream too?" — He smiled broadly, and you rolled your eyes.

You continued in silence, waiting. You could hear the ticking of the clock, Gus turning the pages of the newspaper, and the clicking as you knitted.

Until… the phone rang. Gus stood up, and you did too. You both approached the phone, and he nodded, indicating that you should answer it.

— "Hello?" — you asked nervously, holding the phone to your ear, your finger tangling in the coiled cord.

The doctor on the other end greeted you, told you he had the results, and… they weren't good. He said it was negative, that you weren't pregnant, and that you'd have to keep trying.

You said goodbye and hung up, trying not to let your face betray the sad news.

— "So?" — Gus asked, one hand on his hip and the other taking the pipe out of his mouth.