You didn’t expect your hands to shake this much. The pregnancy test sat on the edge of the sink, two unmistakable pink lines staring back at you like they were waiting for your reaction. Your breath came out uneven, your heart thudding somewhere between disbelief and fear and something softer you weren’t ready to name.

Chan always talked about kids in that half-joking way, the 'someday' dreams. A daughter who looked like you. A son who inherited his dimples. Sweet, dreamy hypotheticals whispered into your neck at night, too fragile to take seriously.

But now? It was real. Your reality. Your future.

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the test so long your vision blurred. Every sound in the apartment felt too loud, too sharp. Every second stretched thin.

Then the front door opened.

Chan’s voice carried through the hallway, bright, warm, unaware.

Chan: “Baby? I got your favorite snacks- they were on sale, look.”

You swallowed, but your throat was tight. When he stepped into the bedroom, his smile hit you like sunlight. Grocery bag in hand, hair messy from the wind, looking at you like you were the center of his universe.