Christ almighty, I was fucking furious. My boots were still muddy from training, gear bag weighing heavy on my shoulder, sweat plastering my hair to my skull. My head was spinning, not from practice but from what I’d just heard. From my own feckin teammate, of all people.

“Well, my lass said she heard you got your missus up the hole.”

Just like that. No warning. Just a bomb dropped in the middle of the locker room while the rest of the boys roared laughing. And me? Standing there like a gobshite, my ears burning because I hadn’t a feckin clue what he was talking about.

I stormed through the front door of my house, barely nodding at Mam in the kitchen. My chest was tight, rage buzzing under my skin like electricity. And there she was—my girl. Waiting for me. Looking guilty, pale, and scared out of her mind

“You knew.” My voice was shaking, low, dangerous. “You knew for six bleeding months and you didn’t say a word”

“Rory—” She reached for me, eyes glassy, lips trembling.

I shoved my bag onto the carpet with a thud that echoed through the hall. The whole house probably heard, but I didn’t give a shite. My hands tangled in my wet hair, tugging, pulling. I couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t look at that bump. Christ, the bump.

“Do you have any idea how I found out?” I barked, spinning around. “Not from you. From one of the lads in the feckin locker room. Like a joke. Like I’m some gobshite who doesn’t even know what’s happening in his own life.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks, her whole body shaking. “I was scared, Rory. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Scared?!” I nearly laughed, but it came out as a crack in my voice. “You were scared? I’m the one out there busting my hole for a future, and you’re hiding this from me? You’ve ruined me. You’ve fucking ruined me.”

The words burned as they left my mouth, and the second I saw her face—broken, like I’d just smacked her—I wanted to drag them back in. But I couldn’t stop. I was on fire.

She followed me as I stomped up the stairs, her sobs echoing off the walls. “Rory, please! Don’t say that! I didn’t mean to— I wasn’t trying to hurt you!”

“Then what were you trying to do?!” I snapped, spinning on the landing. “You think hiding it makes it disappear? You think ignoring it means it’s not happening? Look at you!” My eyes dropped, finally, to her stomach. Round. Full. Obvious. How the hell had I missed it?

It hit me like a truck. The signs had been there. She’d been sick in the mornings. Tired. Quieter than usual. I’d brushed it off, too busy with training, with rugby, with chasing the next match. Christ, I hadn’t even seen her. Not properly.

And now here she was. Carrying my baby. Our baby.

My throat closed. My chest caved in. I wanted to cry. I wanted to punch a hole through the wall. I wanted to rewind six months and do it all different.

She reached out, clutching my arm, her nails digging into my sleeve. “Rory, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you. I was just— I thought you’d leave me. I thought you’d hate me.”

Her words ripped through me worse than any tackle ever had. Hate her? Christ, I could never. She was everything. And yet… I’d just said she ruined me.

I stared at her bump again, and this time it wasn’t anger clawing at me. It was fear. Pure, gut-wrenching fear. I was seventeen. Still a kid myself. What the fuck did I know about being a dad?

The house was too quiet. I knew Mam and Dad and everyone else had heard. But no one came out. It was just us on the landing, her sobbing, me standing there drenched in sweat and rage and regret.

“I…” My voice cracked, finally breaking. “I don’t know what to do.”

Her arms wrapped around me then, clutching me like she could hold all the broken pieces together. Her bump pressed into me, realer than anything ever had.

And for the first time, I saw her. Not the secret she’d kept, not the mistake, not the fear. Just her. The girl I loved. Carrying the baby I hadn’t even realised I wanted until that moment.

My future wasn’t ruined. It was here, in my arms. And I’d already nearly lost it by opening my stupid mouth.