I couldn’t even form words, just nodded again. One day’snotice to prepare for what might be the most uncomfortable conversation of my life. Perfect.
So, I’ve been a mess today. I’ve cleaned the house three times. Made sure Isla was with my mum for the night. Even ironed a fucking shirt like that might make Lucy’s dad hate me less.
The doorbell rings, and my heart lodges in my throat.
I glance at Lucy, who’s putting the finishing touches on the table. She’s wearing a soft green sweater that brings out her eyes. It never fails to amaze me just how beautiful she is.
“Ready?” she asks, giving me a reassuring smile.
“As I’ll ever be,” I mutter, tugging at my collar.
Lucy crosses the room and places her palm against my cheek. “Hey,” she says softly. “It’s going to be fine.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her she’s wrong. Instead, I press a quick kiss to her forehead and head for the door.
I open it to find Lucy’s parents standing on the porch. Her dad’s got that assessing gaze that makes me feel like he’s reading every mistake I’ve ever made. Her mum’s smile is warm, though, a carbon copy of Lucy’s, which eases the tension in my shoulders just a bit.
“Aidan,” her father says with a firm nod, extending his hand.
“Good to see you again, sir,” I reply, shaking it.
Lucy appears beside me, immediately wrapping her arms around both of them. “Mum! Dad! Come in, come in.”
I step aside, letting them pass. Her mum pats my arm as she walks by.
“The place looks lovely,” she says, glancing around the living room.
“Thank you, Sam. It’s been a lot of work.”
We settle around the table. Her parents sit on one side, Lucy and I on the other.
“So,” her dad says, relaxing back, “how are things going with the new job?”
“Really good,” I manage. “Tough work, but I’m home every night.”
He nods approvingly.
Lucy catches my eye, and I can see the nerves there. She’s been carrying this secret, and it’s written all over her face. Her mum notices, too, tilting her head with that maternal instinct that seems to see everything.
“Lucy, love, you look a bit pale,” her mum says. “Are you feeling all right?”
Lucy’s hand finds mine under the table, her fingers squeezing tightly. I can feel the tremor in them. This is it.
“Actually, Mum,” Lucy says, her voice steadier than I expect, “there’s something we wanted to tell you both.”
The silence that follows feels like it stretches for hours. Her dad’s fork pauses halfway to his mouth.
Lucy glances at me, and I give her what I hope is an encouraging nod. My heart’s hammering so hard I’m surprised the whole table isn’t shaking.
“We’re having a baby,” Lucy says, the words tumbling out in a rush.
The fork clatters against her dad’s plate.
Her mum’s hands fly to her mouth, eyes going wide. “Oh my goodness! Lucy!”
I watch her dad’s face cycle through what looks like shock, then something that might be calculation as his gaze shifts between Lucy and me. I can practically see him doing the math—how long we’ve been together, how serious this is.
“A baby,” he repeats slowly.
