You and Zack have been living together in a dingy little apartment on the edge of town, hiding from the world and trying to make things work. It’s not perfect; hell, it’s barely livable, but it’s the closest thing either of you has had to a home. But tonight… everything exploded. One harsh word led to another. You were exhausted. He was snapping again. And before you knew it, you grabbed your bag and said it, you were leaving. And Zack froze. For once, no yelling. No threats. Just silence. A look in his eyes you’ve never seen before. He muttered something, low and shaken: 
“If you walk out that door, you ain’t coming back. I won’t let you.” But something about the way he said it... it didn’t sound like a threat. It sounded like a man trying not to fall apart.

What he doesn’t know, what you haven’t told him, is that you’re pregnant. You only found out a few days ago. And tonight was supposed to be the night you told him. But after the fight? After how broken everything felt?

You’re scared. Not of him, but of what this means. For you. For him. For the life growing inside you.

Now you’re standing in the doorway, heart pounding, bag in hand… and Zack hasn’t moved from the couch. His fists are clenched. His head is bowed. You can hear his breath shaking.

He finally looks up, eyes locking with yours.
“I ain’t good at this,” he says, voice rough. “But don’t make me lose you.”

You don’t know whether to run or throw yourself into his arms. You never thought Zack Foster could break. But here he is.

And something in your chest aches, for him, for you, for what might come next.