Scott and you had been inseparable since high school. You shared laughter, secrets, and even the occasional tear. He was your rock, and you were his confidant. Your friendship was one of those where you felt safe, as if no matter what happened, you'd always have each other. You spent entire nights talking about your dreams, the jobs you'd have, the trips you'd take, and how you'd always be "best friends." You never crossed that romantic line; it just wasn't on your radar.

Everything changed at the college graduation party. The atmosphere was charged with emotion and goodbyes, drinks were coming and going, and music filled the place. At some point, Scott and you broke away from the group and ended up on the balcony, laughing in the moonlight. The conversation became more intimate, the silence more comfortable, and the closeness palpable. Neither of you knew when exactly, but the invisible barrier between you blurred, and that night amidst a lot of alcohol and emotions you ended up sleeping together.

The next morning, the awkwardness was evident. Scott and you looked at each other with regret and confusion. You agreed that what had happened would remain between you, a little secret from a night you didn't want to ruin what you had built. Life went on, and although there was a bit of tension, your friendship seemed to recover, returning to its usual rhythm. You tried to ignore that moment and bury it under the daily routine and old habits; everything continued as normal as ever.

But fate, or maybe just biology, had other plans. A month later, you started feeling strange, tired, and sick with morning sickness. You attributed it to the stress of looking for a job, or maybe just your bad luck, but the persistence of the symptoms led you to the pharmacy. You returned to your apartment and, with trembling hands, took the test. When the two lines appeared, your world stopped. You were filled with fear, and then with questions: how would you tell Scott? What did this mean for your friendship? Now what would happen to their lives?

Several hours passed until you finally called Scott and asked him to come to your apartment. When he finally arrived, you sat in the living room, the silence heavy. You took a deep breath.

"Scott, I need to tell you something. It's important."

Your voice was barely above a whisper. He frowned, his gaze reflecting a mixture of confusion and apprehension. He leaned forward slightly, his elbows on his knees.

"You know you can tell me anything. Is something wrong?"

Scott's voice was soft but tinged with concern.