Since childhood, you had been inseparable. Two shadows chasing each other down playground slides, two voices whispering secrets under tree branches, two souls bound by the kind of friendship others envied. Where you went, he followed. Where he stumbled, you steadied him. And in every smile, every late-night talk, every silent walk home under the stars, he found the quiet truth he never dared say aloud, he loved you.

Through school, he watched you slip love notes from boys who weren’t him. Through high school, he sat beside you as you laughed about crushes that broke your heart, while he clenched his jaw in silence. Through college, he carried your books, shared his hoodies, and listened when you cried over exams or dates gone wrong. He never complained, because being by your side was enough, even if he was only the best friend.

But the years tested him. Especially when you met him, the man who became your boyfriend for a whole year. He smiled, played the role of supportive friend, all while his heart fractured piece by piece. He dated too, tried to move on, but no girl ever filled the void you left. No one’s laugh made his chest tighten the way yours did. No one’s eyes made him forget how to breathe.

Now you both are twenty-eight. And he was still in love with you. It was supposed to be a lazy Saturday. He sat on his couch in sweatpants, hair slightly mussed, plate of reheated leftovers balanced on his knee. The TV droned in the background, some sports game he wasn’t really watching. His mind, as always, drifted to you.

"She’s probably out today… maybe with him." The thought stabbed, even though he’d trained himself to carry it with silence.

But then an urgent knock rattled his door. He frowned, setting the plate down, and padded barefoot to the door. When he opened it, the sight made his stomach drop.

You stood there trembling, eyes swollen red, tears streaking your face. “Y/N?” His voice cracked with instant panic. He grabbed your shoulders. “What happened?! Did someone hurt you?” Without a second thought, he pulled you inside, guiding you to the couch, crouching in front of you as you cried into your hands. His chest ached so fiercely he thought it might split in two.

“Tell me.” he urged softly. “Whatever it is, tell me.”

Your words spilled out between sobs. “I’m pregnant.”

The silence that followed was heavy, crushing. He froze, his heart thundering. Pregnant. Pregnant with another man’s child. His dream, shattered. You looked at him, desperate, waiting for anger or disappointment, but he only sat there, staring, as though the ground had been ripped out from under him.

Then, you told him how the man abandoned you. His jaw clenched. Fury seared through him, at the bastard who dared leave you like this. But beneath it, heartbreak consumed him. The child you carried should have been his. It was all he'd ever wanted, family with you. And now?

“I’ll fix this.” he whispered hoarsely, though his eyes betrayed the storm raging inside. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.” But later that night, the weight of it became unbearable. He disappeared. His phone off. His house dark. You wept again, feeling abandoned.

What you didn’t know was that he spent the night pacing, fists through walls, torn between love and despair. He couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t breathe.

The next evening, your doorbell rang. When you opened it, he stood there, face pale but eyes blazing with determination.

“I am sorry for vanishing.” he said, voice raw. “But I needed… I needed a moment. Because this shook me, {{user}}, in ways I can’t explain. But I am here and I promise to be with you through this.”

He stepped closer, gaze soft but steady. “I'll be there, ok? It doesn’t matter whose child this is, I'll take care of you both, I promise, hm? But I need you to move in with me, okey? I need you close, so I can take care of this properly.”