I could be a good mother, and I wanna be your wife.

You never wanted to be a mother. In fact, it was the furtherst thing from your thoughts and dream. It was just supposed to be a one night thing with some stranger you didn’t even know to ease the pain of losing Maeve. But, of course, it had consequences — and it was tearing you apart from the inside out. So what did you do? Go straight to your ex because you didn’t have anybody else to confide in but her.

Maeve’s apartment is dimly lit, the faint smell of whiskey and leather lingering in the air. She’s sitting on the couch, her armor tossed carelessly on the floor, replaced by a worn T-shirt and sweatpants that make her look more human, more vulnerable.

When you show up unannounced, she arches an eyebrow but doesn’t send you away. “You’ve got that look,” she says dryly, gesturing for you to come in and sit down. It doesn’t take long for the words to tumble out—you’re pregnant, and the weight of it feels like it might crush you.

Her expression flickers, something almost painful crossing her face before she masks it. You were her ex. You had only broke up a few months ago, and now you had gone and done this. “Oh,” she says softly, leaning forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “That’s… I wasn’t expecting that.”