Her throat bobs as she swallows, eyes sparkling with nerves. “I didn’t want it to be like this,” she whispers.
I shake my head, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Doesn’t matter where. Doesn’t matter when. All that matters is you’re not alone in it.”
She exhales shakily, leaning into me for a moment, her forehead pressed against my chest. I hold her there, gentlystroking her hair, trying to infuse calm into her bones even though I’m falling apart inside.
When she finally pulls back, she nods toward the small white box Catalina shoved into her hands. “Guess we should…”
I nod, cupping her cheek. “Yeah, baby. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her breathing quickens. “I don’t—God, I don’t know if I can.”
I move closer, catching her hands before she can twist them into fists. “Hey,” I murmur, tilting her chin so she has to look at me. Her green eyes are wide, wet at the corners, and it guts me. “You don’t have to do anything alone. Not now. Not ever.”
She exhales shakily, her lips pressed together. Finally, she nods. “Okay.”
I kiss her forehead and let her go, turning toward the door. “I’ll wait outside if you want?—”
“No.” Her voice cracks, sharp enough to stop me. “Stay.”
I nod once. “I’m here, dollface.”
She disappears into the stall, and those few minutes feel like the longest of my life. I lean back against the sink, arms crossed, trying not to think, not to spin out. My heart pounds against my ribs so hard it hurts. I’ve been hit a hundred times on the field, taken bone-snapping tackles, and nothing has ever scared me like this—waiting for the woman I love to see if she’s carrying a piece of me inside her.
She’s back, the test in her hand. She places it face down on the counter as if it’s too heavy to look at.
“Timer’s three minutes,” she whispers.
I slide an arm around her, pulling her into my side, my lips brushing her hairline. “Then we wait together.”
Seconds crawl. Amelia presses her face into my shirt, breathing shallow and fast, while I stroke her hair and whisper nonsense to keep her steady. My hand covers hers where it grips my chest, my thumb brushing over her knuckles.
The phone timer chimes.
Amelia jerks back, staring at the little stick. “Mav…” Her lips tremble. “I can’t look.”
My own throat is tight, but I nod, squeezing her hand. “Then I’ll look for both of us, baby.”
I flip it over.
Two pink lines.
My vision blurs instantly. For a second, I can only stare, my knees almost giving way. Then I look at her—really look at her—Amelia, fierce and fragile all at once, her lips parted as she searches my face.
“Well?” she whispers, like she already knows.
I swallow hard, my voice rough. “Baby… we’re having a baby.”
Her hand flies to her mouth, tears spilling before she can stop them. A sob rips out of her chest, and I’m already pulling her into me—hauling her up, her arms looping tight around my neck as I press desperate kisses along the curve of her throat.
She shakes against me, crying into my neck, and I press kisses to her hair, her temple, anywhere I can reach. “I got you, dollface,” I whisper, my own voice breaking. “I’ve always got you. It’s you, me, and this baby. Always.”
Amelia’s still pressed against me, the pregnancy test forgotten on the counter. Her tears are wet against my neck,and I can feel the way her breathing finally starts to slow, syncing with mine.
I set her down, tilting her chin up and gently wiping away the streaks on her cheeks with my thumbs. Her eyeliner is smudged, her lips are swollen, and she’s never looked more beautiful.
“Should we…” My voice cracks, and I clear it. “Should we say anything? Or do you wanna keep it just us for a while?”
She sniffles, biting her lip. Then she shakes her head, determination sparking through the nerves in her eyes. “No. They’re our family. If anyone gets to know first… it’s them.”
