You nodded, bracing for retreat. For cold logic. For “we can’t.”
“You’re…” His voice cracked. “You’re pregnant?” x reader pregnant
“Hey,” he said, voice low, crouching beside you. “Hey, look at me.” You nodded, bracing for retreat
He stared at it. Then at your stomach. Then back at the two pink lines. ” he said
He pulled back just enough to look at you – eyes wet, fierce, softer than you’d ever seen.
You sobbed. “I was scared.”
He found you crying in the nursery you’d been secretly painting – a soft sage green, neither pink nor blue.