Kiren notices. He doesn’t interrupt the conversation or draw attention to it. His hand moves across the table and rests lightly over mine for a moment. The contact is warm and reassuring. A quiet anchor.
I glance at him. His expression remains neutral, but his eyes hold mine for a moment, the message clear enough.
Whenever you’re ready.
My mother is reaching for the rolls again when I draw in a slow breath. “Mom,” I say softly.
She looks up immediately. Mothers do that. They recognize the change in tone before anyone else in the room even notices it.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
Ethan’s fork pauses halfway to his mouth. Kiren’s hand remains over mine.
I feel their attention turn toward me around the table.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
Mom sets the roll back down without taking a bite. The small motion is careful, like she already expects whatever comes next to matter. Her eyes move across my face.
“Rowan?”
I let out the breath I’ve been holding. “I’m pregnant.”
The words linger in the warm air, and for a second, nothing moves. The refrigerator hum continues. A car passes somewhere down the street. The pale light on the table doesn’t change.
My mother doesn’t speak. She sits there with both hands resting on the edge of the table, looking at me as if she has misheard something important.
I watch the realization arrive slowly across her face. Her eyes widen first. Then her mouth parts slightly as if she is about to speak, but the words refuse to come out. She looks down at the table, then back at me again, searching my face.
“Pregnant?” she repeats softly.
I nod. “Yes.”
Her eyes drop to my stomach automatically. She stares there, as if the information might reveal itself physically if she looks long enough. Then she lifts her eyes back to mine.
“Oh.” The word leaves her in a fragile breath. Her hand rises slowly to her mouth. “Oh, Rowan.”
I feel Kiren’s fingers tighten gently around mine.
“I know it’s a lot,” I begin.
My mother shakes her head quickly, stopping me. “No. No, that’s not—” She draws in a slow breath, one hand still pressed over her lips. Her eyes shine now, bright with emotion she’s clearly trying to sort through. “I just… sweetheart, I never thought…”
Her voice fades. I know exactly what she meant to say.I never thought you could have children.I built my life around thatexpectation so completely that I stopped imagining anything different.
Mom lowers her hand from her mouth and reaches across the table toward me. Her fingers wrap around my wrist, warm and slightly trembling.
“How far along?”
“Not very,” I answer. “Just a few weeks.”
Her eyes close momentarily as if she’s letting the words sink in fully. When she opens them again, they shine brighter. “You’re going to have a baby.”
The wonder in her voice makes my chest tighten.
Ethan watches her reaction, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
“Well,” he remarks, leaning back carefully in his chair, his good arm resting on the table while the sling keeps the other still. “Guess I finally get someone to coach in T-ball.”
