The Seven Husbands of Taylor Swift

28

TAYLOR SWIFT
I walked into the apartment and immediately spotted Joe, legs propped up on the table, eyes glued to the television. It took everything in me not to roll my eyes right out of my head. Here I was, a storm of anxiety, and there he was, oblivious, as if everything was perfectly normal. But how could I blame him? He didn't know yet, didn't know about the ticking time bomb that was about to go off between us.

We'd been careful. We'd done everything right. And yet here we were. The worst part was not knowing how he'd react. If he had wanted a child, I could at least brace myself for his excitement. But this? This was going to be a 'fuck, not so happy' reaction, and I've never been good at dealing with those. Who is, really? But first, there was something else that needed my attention.

I strode over to Joe and gave his feet a quick swat. "How many times do I have to tell you—no feet on the table!"

"Jesus, woman!" He practically jumped out of his skin, clutching his chest like he was about to have a heart attack. "When did you get home? Scared me to death."

"When will you learn? No feet on the table!" I snapped.

Joe finally dropped his feet to the floor, grumbling under his breath. "Taylor, we've been together for almost four years. I think it's time you accept that my feet will always find a home on this table."

I let out a long, exasperated sigh, setting my purse down on the counter. "You're impossible sometimes, you know that?"

Joe clicked off the television and got up, the playful banter fading from his face. He walked over to the counter where I stood, and I could feel his eyes on me as I busied myself with anything but acknowledging him.

"Taylor," he said softly, his voice tinged with concern, "I know you've been avoiding me, shutting me out. What the hell happened at that club?"

"It doesn't matter," I muttered, already trying to sidestep him and the conversation.

"It matters to me because I'm worried about you!" He caught my hand as I tried to walk away, his grip firm but gentle. "Please, just talk to me."

I stopped, feeling the weight of his words sink into me. My eyes dropped to the floor, and for a moment, I couldn't bring myself to say it. But there was no escaping this, no running from what was now our reality.

"I'm pregnant," I finally whispered, my voice barely audible.

"What?" His voice was stunned, as if he hadn't heard me right.

I turned to face him, my heart pounding. "I'm pregnant," I repeated, clearer this time.

"Fuck," he exhaled, his hand going to his forehead as he let out a long, heavy sigh.

"I know," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though it was hard to mask the anxiety bubbling beneath. "I took a test when I was in that trashy club, of all places. I don't know why, but I just lost it. Flipped my shit completely. I ended up going to my mom's because I didn't know what else to do. My brain wasn't exactly thinking logically."

Joe stared at me, the shock still etched into his features. "So... when are you gonna... I mean, are we still doing no children?"

"I want to get this over with just as quickly as you do," I replied, trying to reassure him, and maybe even myself. "Trust me."

Joe exhaled slowly, the tension between us thickening. He leaned back against the counter, rubbing his hand over his face, clearly trying to process everything. The silence stretched, and for a moment, I wondered if I'd made a mistake in telling him so bluntly.

"You're sure?" he finally asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "You're sure this is what you want?"

I nodded, though the truth was, I wasn't sure about anything anymore. But I couldn't let him see that doubt. "Yeah, I'm sure. We agreed on this. No kids. We both know what we want."