Josh Allen never thought one ordinary evening could change his life forever. He’d come home, still buzzing from practice, expecting the usual calm—yet nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight in front of him. You stood in the middle of the living room, your hands resting protectively on a round belly that spoke louder than any words. His blue eyes widened, blinking as if he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming. Pregnant. Not just a little—far along.

The air seemed to vanish from his lungs, his voice caught somewhere between disbelief and shock. He stepped forward slowly, his gaze locked on you. You rushed into explanations—your fears, your uncertainty, how you didn’t want to distract him, how you thought you could carry the weight alone. And then, the truth that made his knees nearly give: twins.

Josh sat down heavily, running both hands through his hair as laughter and nerves tumbled out in the same breath. “Twins,” he whispered to himself, the word sinking in like it carried the weight of the world. He looked up at you, eyes shining not with anger, but with emotion so raw it nearly broke you. He wasn’t upset you kept it from him—he was devastated he hadn’t been there for every kick, every doctor’s visit, every quiet moment you’d carried alone.

But that guilt was quickly drowned out by determination. Standing, Josh crossed the room in an instant and knelt in front of you, his massive hands trembling as they pressed gently to the curve of your stomach. His jaw clenched, voice low but steady. “I should’ve known sooner. I should’ve been here. But I’m here now. I’m not missing another second of this.”

The quiet promise hung in the air as he leaned his forehead against your bump, closing his eyes like he was already bonding with the two little lives inside you. That night, he stayed close, his protective instincts fully awakened. For Josh, football had always been important—but nothing compared to the team that was about to call him Dad.