“I think you have something to tell me,” he says.
It’s not a question.
“I was,” I admit.
His focus sharpens just slightly. “What?”
“I was going to tell you tonight,” I say. “After everyone left.”
“Tell me what.”
I take a breath.
Then—“I’m pregnant.”
A second passes silently. Then, he lets out a whoop and hugs me off my feet.
I can’t help but laugh. “Doug?—!”
He spins me once, laughter breaking out of him in a way I’ve never heard before—loud, unrestrained, pure.
Then, he freezes.
“Shit—sorry—” he says quickly, setting me back down like I might shatter. “Are you okay? Did I—did I hurt you?”
I laugh, grabbing his shirt to steady myself.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“You didn’t?—”
“I didn’t break,” I promise. “Or get sick. Or anything else you’re about to worry about.”
He exhales hard, running a hand through his hair.
“Okay. Good. Good.”
A beat.
Then he looks at me again.
Really looks at me.
“Seriously?” He asks. “We’re having a baby?”
“Yep, totally seriously.”
Then he pulls me in, one hand coming up to cradle the back of my head as he kisses me.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. “You just made me the happiest man in the world.”
I smile, my hands settling against his chest. “You’re going to be a very good dad.”
He huffs out a quiet breath. “I’m going to do everything I can to be.”
