Everything was good. Actually, good was a ridiculous understatement — everything was better than it had ever been.

Shane had a real job now, working as a photographer. {{user}} was in her final term of dance school and part of a major company. And best of all, their relationship had never been stronger. They’d been living together for years now, sharing a life Shane had never truly believed he could have.

And damn, he was still so hopelessly in love it was almost embarrassing.

It wasn’t just passion anymore — it was gratitude, it was a deep, steady love, the kind you build. Every day when Shane came home from work, he wasn’t just coming back to an apartment. He was coming home. And home was {{user}}.

Their routine was exhausting, but it made every moment together even more precious. Shane loved everything about it: showering together, cooking side by side, watching {{user}} practice new choreography in the living room, editing photos while she sat on the floor between his legs in quiet companionship. But his favorite part was sleeping together.

Who would’ve guessed that the once-feared Shane Holland was actually a giant teddy bear who needed to cuddle to fall asleep?

God, it was the best part of the day. Well… after certain nighttime activities, of course. He wasn’t a saint. And neither was she.

That night, though, when Shane turned in bed looking for {{user}}’s warm, soft body, all he found was empty space.

He opened his eyes, still heavy with sleep, panic immediately tightening in his chest — that old fear of being left behind. Then he took a breath. Bathroom. It had to be.

“{{user}}… babe, bring that pretty ass back to bed,” he called out, loud enough for her to hear. “Or I’m coming in there to get you.”

The joking tone died the second he heard the unmistakable sound of someone throwing up.

Shane was out of bed in a second.

The bathroom door was locked when he reached it.

“Hey, princess… open up,” he murmured, worry already thick in his voice.

He heard the toilet flush, then the click of the lock. Shane opened the door and stepped inside. {{user}} was sitting on the floor next to the toilet, pale.

“This is gross, you’re not supposed to see me like this, I’m totally out of—” Another wave of nausea cut her off.

Shane dropped down beside her immediately, holding her hair back and rubbing slow, gentle circles into her back.

“Shhh… it’s okay. In sickness and in health, remember?”

When she caught her breath again, she tried to smile weakly. “Was that a marriage proposal?”

He laughed softly but kept stroking her back. And then, suddenly, something clicked in his mind.

{{user}} never threw up. Ever. Not even when he’d been sick for days after that awful Mexican food last year.

So why now?

The word hit him like thunder.

Pregnancy.

He helped her up, got her to brush her teeth, but his thoughts wouldn’t slow down. Finally, he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Baby… when was your last period?”

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe just a bug.

But… what if it wasn’t?

He expected to feel panic. Fear. Dread.

Instead, what filled his chest was something else entirely.

Hope.