Bryce didn’t even look surprised. “When?”
“In the bathroom,” she said quietly, looking away. “After Crystal... I thought I was holding it together, but I’m not. Not really.”
Bryce gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing the corner of her eye. “I’m so sorry you were treated that way.”
She nodded slowly, her throat too tight to speak.
He didn’t say another word—just pulled her into his arms and held her there, steady and sure, until her breathing evened out and the tears subsided.
She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears.
Then he kissed her forehead—soft, reverent.
He didn’t push. Instead,he said gently, “Earlier—I asked you to come by for a reason. After what you just told me, I still want to talk to you about it. But if you don’t feel up to another hard conversation, I can wait.”
Beth straightened, wiping at her face. “No… now’s fine. Tomorrow might be worse.”
He hesitated, then reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “After living with you for a week, I’ve developed a few suspicions… and what you just told me confirms them.”
“Suspicions?” Beth’s brows knit together, confusion softening her voice. The way he was talking—gentle, cautious—it sounded like he was trying not to spook a wounded animal.
“There’s a specimen cup and a pregnancy test in the bathroom,” he said softly. “I think you’re pregnant, sweetheart.”
She froze, staring at him—beyond shocked.
Her mind spun.
That had been her biggest fear in the beginning. But as the days passed—filled with joy, tension, and every emotion in between—she’d let the thought drift to the back of her mind. Too much else had taken priority.
“I just think we should check,” Bryce added gently, his fingers brushing her chin. “It might still be too early, but I know you didn’t want to run blood work.”
He didn’t say more. Didn’t pressure her. Just waited.
Beth didn’t respond, just rose quietly and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
Minutes later Beth came out and reclaimed her seat on thecouch. Bryce was standing nearby, watching her carefully, but she didn’t say a word. She set her phone face-up on the small table between them, the timer already ticking down.
Then she picked up her book, but she didn’t read, didn’t speak. Just stared at the timer like it might detonate when it got to zero.
Bryce paced the room like a man walking a tightrope—measured steps, one eye always on her.
The five-minute wait felt longer than her entire shift.
When the alarm finally chimed, Beth stood, arms stiff at her sides. Bryce fell into step beside her, and together, they walked into the bathroom.
She stopped just inside the doorway, arms crossed tightly, hovering like a spectator.
“I can’t look,” she whispered.
Bryce stepped forward and checked the test.
He froze.
For a single, breathless second, everything stilled.
Beth’s chest tightened—until she realized he wasn’t frozen in fear.
The tension in his shoulders didn’t just sag in relief. It uncoiled into something else entirely.
