Spencer had always been exceptional—a prodigy with a mind sharper than the world could keep up with. At a young age, he was offered the chance to skip ahead, but he chose to stay. For his mother, who needed him, and for you —you who had captured his heart the moment you met.

Your bond was loving, your friendship a foundation that had grown into something deeper. Two years had passed since you first dared to call it love.

But lately, something had shifted. An unease had settled over you, a quiet nausea that refused to fade. You told yourself it was nothing, a fleeting sickness, a figment of stress and overthinking. And yet, doubt gnawed at the edges of your certainty. So, with a trembling hand, you reached for the test—just to be sure.

But then…

Two pink lines. Two undeniable, unrelenting lines.

A cold rush of fear overtook you, tangling in your lungs. This isn’t possible. But reality didn’t bend for disbelief.

You had to tell Spencer.

With a pounding heart and knees that threatened to give way, you made your way to his house. The door swung open to reveal his familiar, soft smile, the warmth of it momentarily soothing your fraying nerves. He led you inside.

Soon, you were on his bed, his Spider-Man bedsheets crumpled beneath her restless fingers. You swallowed hard.

“Spence… I have to tell you something.” Your voice wavered, laced with a fear you couldn’t disguise.

His eyes lifted from the book in his hands, soft with concern. “Yeah? What is it, baby?”

Your breath stuttered. The words caught in your throat. Your felt his hand find your, a silent promise, an unspoken vow.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “You can tell me anything.”

A deep inhale. A final moment of hesitation before the inevitable.

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

Spencer’s body went still, his expression unreadable—shock, confusion, something teetering on the edge of disbelief. Not quite horror, but certainly not joy.

“Wh-what…?” His voice barely broke the quiet. “You’re…? Huh.”

And just like that, the world stood still once more.