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