I press my hand against my mouth, trying to stifle the laughter that’s quickly turning to sobs.
“Pregnant?” he repeats. “Are you sure?”
I catch my breath and nod slowly. “I just found out this morning. I was going to tell you, I promise. I just…wasn’t really sure how.”
The color drains from his face. His hand instinctively runs through his hair, tugging at the strands as his gaze falls to the floor, distant and unfocused. He looks like a man who’s just been hit by a swell of terror he doesn’t know how to ride. All I can do is watch, completely helpless.
I hate how fast the silence fills the space between us, and just how loud that silence gets. I can hear the faucet drip. I can hear my own heartbeat pounding like it’s trying to escape my chest. I can hear everything excepthim.
I wrap my arms around myself, wishing I could take back the words, wishing I could say them differently, gentler. Anything to soften it after the train wreck of a day he just had.
“Aidan,” I whisper, almost afraid to break whatever trance he’s trapped in. “Please say something.”
His eyes finally lift to mine, and god, I wish I could read his mind.
“I thought you said…”
I swallow, my throat dry as sandpaper. “I did. I mean, that’s what they told me. It was never impossible, just…unlikely.” My hand instinctively moves to my stomach. “Remember when I had that awful sinus infection a couple months ago?”
Aidan nods slowly, recognition dawning in his eyes.
“The antibiotics probably affected my birth control. And all the…you know. We…” I gesture vaguely between us, embarrassed. “I didn’t even think about it at the time. It seemed so improbable that I didn’t consider…”
His expression shifts, the shock melting into awe. “A baby,” he whispers.
I nod, tears welling up again.
He stares at me, silent. It’s worse than if he’d yelled, or panicked, or walked away—because he’sfeeling, but I don’t knowwhat.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out, the words slipping out before I can stop them. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. I had no intentions of hiding this, but I didn’t know if you’d be okay, and I’m scared, too, and?—”
“Don’t,” he cuts me off, his voice stronger now. “Don’t apologize.”
Suddenly, his hands are on my face, so warm, rough, trembling just a little. He looks at me like I’ve cracked open the whole universe and handed it to him.
“You don’t get to apologize for a goddamn miracle,” he says. “Not to me. Never to me.”
I blink up at him, my lips parting to speak, but I don’t know what to say. Not when his thumbs are brushing over my cheeks like he’s memorizing the feel of me. Not when his eyes are full of something heavier than joy.
That’s when I see it.
The flash of fear.
“Lucy,” he says finally, his voice so quiet I can barely hear it. “I did it once. I raised a baby on my own, and it nearly destroyed me. I can’t do that again. I just…can’t.”
My breath catches at the fact that he thought he might have to do it on his own. That after everything I’ve shownhim, he still wonders if I’ll turn into someone who walks away.
My heart twists with a mix of hurt and awareness. I want to say I understand, but hearing him questionmycommitment, the thought that I might be anything like Emily… It stings.
I take a steadying breath, reminding myself that this isn’t a reflection of how he feels about me. It’s about him, his past, his fears. Still, I can’t just let that slide.
“I get that you’re scared, Aidan,” I say. “But I’m not Emily.”
His gray eyes meet mine, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. His jaw clenches, and I can see him struggling to find the right words.
“I know you’re not her,” he says, running a hand through his hair again, his voice thick with regret. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I just… I can’t have you look at me one day and decide this isn’t what you signed up for.”
I reach for his hands, pulling them away from his hair and holding them firmly in mine.
