The apartment was still—too still. The kind of silence that didn’t soothe but sat heavy in the air, pressing down on everything like a weight. Drew knew the result the second he walked in. He didn’t need to see the test, abandoned on the kitchen counter, or the closed door to their bedroom.

He already knew.

He found her sitting on the edge of the bed, her back to him, unmoving. She’d changed into a worn hoodie, sleeves pulled over her hands, shoulders tense like they were trying to hold her together.

Drew stood in the doorway for a long moment, heart cracked wide open. Then, quietly, he stepped in and sat beside her. Close, but not touching her yet.

“I saw the test,” he said softly, eyes locked on the floor.

She didn’t say anything.

“I really thought this was it,” he added, and his voice broke in the middle of the sentence.