Seven months ago, when Harry asked me to be his girlfriend, I couldn't have been happier. He was everything I wanted-loyal, caring, funny, and incredibly handsome. It felt like nothing could come between us.
But then our lives changed forever from j...
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London, 3 PM.
The room felt smaller now. After Harry had left, promising he'd return later that evening, the silence stretched on, thick and oppressive. I sat on the couch, staring at the spot where he'd sat, his words still echoing in my mind. We're in this together. No matter what.
I wanted to believe him, I really did. But as the minutes ticked by and reality began to settle, the weight of it all returned with crushing force. The test, the conversation, his face when I told him—everything replayed in my head like a broken record.
My phone buzzed on the coffee table, shaking me from my thoughts. It was a text from Faith.
You okay?
I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the screen. Was I okay? Could I even say that? I wasn't sure how to respond, so I typed the only thing I could manage.
I told him. He didn't freak out.
I stared at the message, waiting for those little bubbles that would signal her response. Seconds passed. Then more.
When the reply finally came, it was short but comforting.
Told you. You've got this. I'm here if you need me.
I tossed the phone onto the couch, a strange mixture of comfort and anxiety pooling in my chest. Faith was right—Harry hadn't freaked out. But now what? We were tiptoeing into the unknown, and every possible outcome spun around in my head. Could we really do this? Was I ready to be a mother?
The quiet of the apartment felt suffocating. I needed air. Without thinking, I grabbed my jacket and headed outside, the cool breeze hitting my face as soon as I stepped out. The streets of London bustled with life, people going about their days, unaware of the storm inside my head.
As I walked aimlessly, my mind wandered back to Harry. The way his expression had shifted from confusion to shock, to something softer when he finally took my hand. He'd said we were in this together, but I couldn't help but wonder—did he really mean it? Or was he just as terrified as I was?
I stopped in front of a café, the smell of fresh coffee wafting through the open door. My stomach churned, a reminder of the nausea that had come and gone in waves over the past few days. I hadn't even realized it was a symptom until I saw those two lines on the test. Now, it was like a constant companion.
I ordered a tea, not trusting myself with coffee, and found a seat by the window. The cup was warm in my hands, but my thoughts felt cold, disconnected. I watched people pass by outside—couples laughing, a mother pushing a stroller, kids running ahead of their parents. It all felt surreal, like I was watching someone else's life.
I wasn't ready for this. How could I be? I had a job I loved, a future I thought I had planned. Harry and I were still figuring things out, still building our lives. And now, everything was about to change.
