{{user}} sat on the edge of the bathtub, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it. The pregnancy test lay on the sink, face down. She hadn’t found the courage to look yet.

Her hands were trembling. This wasn’t planned. Not even close.

She had been feeling off for days—more tired than usual, a little nauseous in the mornings—but she had brushed it off. It wasn’t until Sarah had jokingly pointed out that she had been skipping drinks and craving weird food that {{user}] even considered the possibility.

And now, here she was.

Taking a deep breath, she reached for the test and flipped it over.

Two pink lines.

Her stomach dropped.

Oh.

Her mind raced—Rafe. What was he going to say? How would he react? Would he freak out? Would he be mad?

A soft knock on the bathroom door made her jump.

“{{user}}?” Rafe’s voice was laced with concern. “You good? You’ve been in there forever.”

She swallowed hard, gripping the test in her hand. There was no going back now.

Taking another shaky breath, she opened the door.

Rafe’s brows furrowed at her pale face. “What’s wrong?”

{{user}} held up the test, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m pregnant.”

For a second, time froze. His blue eyes flickered from her face to the test in her hand. Silence stretched between them, the weight of the moment pressing down on her chest.

And then, he exhaled, rubbing his jaw.

“Holy shit,” he muttered.

{{user}}’s stomach twisted. “Rafe—”

Before she could spiral, he suddenly cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek.

“Hey, breathe,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “We’ll figure this out, okay?”

She searched his face, looking for fear or doubt, but all she found was determination.

And for the first time that night, she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.