Miley sat on the edge of the bathroom counter, the cool marble pressing against her thighs as she stared down at the little white stick in her hand. Two pink lines. God, of course. She ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply through her nose. It wasn’t like she didn’t expect it—her body had been off for weeks now, little things adding up: the nausea, the fatigue, the fact that her period was two weeks late. She just… hadn’t wanted to admit it until now.

Pregnant.

The word alone sent a strange cocktail of emotions swirling in her chest. Fear, disbelief, and—yeah—something softer, too. Warm, almost tender. Because it wasn’t that she didn’t want this. She did, eventually. Just maybe not right now. Not with things so chaotic, not when her boyfriend could barely remember to pick up milk without getting distracted by something shiny.

Luca.

She sighed, letting her head thump back against the mirror. Her twenty-year-old boyfriend—sweet, clueless, adorable Luca—was the kind of guy who’d probably try to feed a baby chips because “it’s soft, right?” The thought made her groan out loud. He was all heart, sure, but half the time he acted like a golden retriever in human form.

Still… she loved him. God help her, she really did.

After a few long moments of quiet, she finally pushed herself off the counter, grabbed the test, and made her way into the living room. He was there, of course—curled up on the couch, probably watching some dumb cartoon or scrolling his phone, blissfully unaware that his entire life was about to shift. Miley stood there for a second, just watching him. The way his messy hair stuck up, the lazy grin on his face when he noticed her.

She swallowed hard. Her fingers fidgeted with the test behind her back.

“Hey, Lu,” she said, trying to sound casual, but her voice betrayed her—too soft, too careful. She walked closer, setting herself down beside him, her heart beating in her ears. “We need to talk about something.”

Her knee bounced nervously. “And before you say anything dumb,” she added quickly, giving him a look, “no, I’m not mad at you. I’m just…” She hesitated, then laughed—short, humorless. “You know how my period’s been late? Yeah, well—” she lifted the test into view, her tone sharp with disbelief and exhaustion all at once. “Surprise.”