The late afternoon sun pours through the windows, soft and golden, casting long shadows across the hardwood floors of the bedroom. The house is quiet and you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, heart pounding so loud it drowns out your thoughts. You’re holding the test in your hand. Positive. No second line to squint at, it was clearly visible. Pink. Clear as day.

You’re pregnant.

And you have no idea how Drew is going to take it.

You’ve been together for years, married, completely wrapped up in a life the two of you built from the ground up. The house is in both your names. So is the car, the credit card, the bank account. He’s your person. Always has been.

But he never wanted kids.

You tried to let that go, because you loved him more than you loved the idea of being a mom. Or at least, you thought you did. Until today.

The front door clicks open downstairs.

“Baby, I’m home,” Drew’s voice calls. You hear his keys hit the dish, the soft sound of his shoes being kicked off, then his steps on the stairs.

You swallow. “In here.”

And then Drew appears in the doorway, hair still styled from set today, he looks at you and immediately senses something’s off.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, walking over without hesitation.

“Can you sit?”

He gives you a look, concerned now, but doesn’t ask questions. He just sits beside you, turning so he’s facing you. “What’s going on?”

You hold out the test. “I’m pregnant.”

There’s a pause, long enough to make your chest ache. He blinks, once, twice. “You…what?”

You nod, throat dry. “I didn’t plan it. I know you didn’t want this. I was careful, I swear. I don’t even know how it happened, and I didn’t want to scare you, or make you feel stuck, or like I—”

“Hey,” he cuts in, voice low. Calm. His hand slips into yours. “Breathe.”

You look at him, eyes already shiny.

He doesn’t say anything right away. Just sits there with you, he’s still trying to process. Then he reaches out, his hand resting lightly on your stomach, barely a touch. You feel your breath catch.

He lets out a small exhale, eyes fixed on you now,. His voice is quieter. “I always thought I didn’t want this. That it wasn’t for me.” He pauses. “But now that it’s real…”

You wait, his thumb brushing the fabric of your shirt.

“I think I do,” he says finally. “I didn’t realize it’s not that I didn’t want kids at all, I just didn’t want them with anyone else. Only with you..”

You let out a soft, shaky breath, and his hand squeezes yours.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he adds, gently.