What Now?

Becoming Friends

After work, you went home and thought about how you were going to tell your parents and your sister. You weren't worried about their reactions. You were sure they'd be happy for you. You just weren't sure if this was a phone call or in person kind of thing.

In the end, you settled on inviting them over for lunch the coming Saturday. That way they could quietly react without being in public. You no longer had to hide the pregnancy, but you weren't going to flaunt it around either.

You didn't have to tell your bosses about the pregnancy until closer to your due date, but you decided it was the most professional option to let them know sooner rather than later. You wanted to tell your parents first. You were a bit nervous about that. Despite being allowed to talk about it now, you couldn't tell them that Henry is the father, and that's hard.

While you were thinking about the best way to approach telling your friends, you got a text.

Hey, y/n.

Hey, Henry.

I just wanted to thank you for meeting with me earlier. I know all of this has been really hard, and you've been so considerate of my situation.

Of course. I really do understand why you avoided contact until the test came back. I'm not going to hold that against you. I can't imagine how many women have tried to trap you with false claims of paternity. I honestly hesitated to tell you because I was worried you'd think I was trying to trap you.

I won't lie, the thought did cross my mind when Dany told me that you'd sent a letter to her office. I was a bit surprised though, as you'd seemed so nonchalant when you left the hotel that morning.

Can I make a confession?

Of course.

I didn't even know who you were until my friends told me later that day. I just thought you were some insanely hot dude named Henry. I had no idea you were famous. And, if I'm being totally honest, I couldn't even remember your name when I first woke up.

It honestly makes me feel a bit better knowing you thought I was just some guy. I'm not stupid. I know that women try to sleep with me just because I'm famous. I've accepted that, and it usually doesn't bother me. I did assume that was the case with you as well, which probably makes me seem like a massive git. You're drop dead gorgeous and you wanted to sleep with me. I wasn't going to say no. I didn't want to say no.

I didn't want to say no either. And I suppose your fame came in handy when it was time to track you down. I likely wouldn't have been able to do so if my friends hadn't told me who you were.

Well, then I'm very appreciative of my fame, because I wouldn't want to miss out on watching my child grow up.

I am glad to hear that. I would understand if you wanted to sign away your rights, but that doesn't mean I want our child to grow up not knowing their father.

I can't imagine knowing I have a child and not knowing them.

I get that. Not that I'd even considered it, but I imagine that's what it would be like with adoption.

You knew you were going to keep the baby as soon as you found out you were pregnant?

I did. I wasn't planning on having a baby any time soon, but I've always wanted kids. So, our baby was a surprise, but I wouldn't change it because I'm growing a tiny, perfect human.