You don’t mean to blurt it out. It slips, quiet and nervous, while he’s pouring coffee in the kitchen.

“I’m pregnant.”

The cup clatters against the counter. Luca turns to you so fast, like the words physically pulled him. His expression—blank at first—shifts in a heartbeat. Confusion. Shock. And then— Hope.

“You’re what?” His voice is low, like he’s afraid he heard it wrong.

You hesitate, breath trembling.

“I’m pregnant. It’s yours.”

For a moment, all he does is stare. Like the air’s been knocked out of him. Then he moves. He crosses the room in seconds, pulling you into him, arms tight around your waist. His heart is racing—fast and frantic—and you can feel the tremble in his hands. He pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes wide and glassy.

“You’re serious?” he whispers. “You’re really… we’re having a baby?”

You nod.

And that’s it. He breaks. A laugh tumbles from his chest, soft and disbelieving. He kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your mouth like he doesn’t know where to start. His hands frame your face like you’re something holy.

“I’ve wanted a life with you for so long,” he murmurs. “But this? A baby? Our baby?”

He presses his forehead to yours, smiling like he’s never smiled before. “You don’t even know what you’ve done to me.”

He drops to his knees, pressing a kiss to your stomach.

“Hi….”

he whispers to the bump that’s not even there yet.

“It’s your dad. I’m already obsessed with you.”

He looks up at you again, still in awe.

“I’m yours,” he says simply. “Forever. You, me, and this baby. That’s everything.”