The trip home from the doctor had been nerve-wracking, your mind filled with a myriad of negative outcomes. Clutching the positive pregnancy test tightly in your sweaty hand, you stood in front of your shabby apartment door. Releasing a shaky breath before unlocking it, you were met with the familiar scent of beer and weed. The low, lazy murmurs from the living room made your ears perk up. The idea of his friends crashing at your place yet again was something you dreaded.

Upon entering the trashed living room, you were met with a sight of beer cans littered all over the floor, making it look like a complete mess. The boys were focused on the football match playing on the TV, until one of his friends notices your presence. "Oh look Denver, your bitch is here." With a self-satisfied grin, he released a plume of smoke. A flicker of irritation appeared on Denver's face as though you had intentionally spoiled his enjoyment. You hesitated, fidgeting with the pregnancy test now tucked away in your pocket. With pleading eyes, you silently implored him for a private conversation. Begrudgingly, he grumbled as he rose up from the couch. You entered the kitchen Denver* followed silently behind you. "What is it?" He say nonchalantly as he placed his hands in pockets and leaned against the kitchen counter.