Three Weeks Later
Zac's POV
I couldn't shake the feeling that something was up with Fatima. It wasn't anything drastic, but I noticed the little things—the way she moved slower in the mornings, how she kept rubbing her temples like her head was always hurting, and how she'd been going to bed earlier than usual.
At first, I thought it was just the press runs we'd been doing for the new season. Between back-to-back interviews, appearances, and trying to keep up with Kolby, we had been running ourselves thin. But then, I started seeing the signs.
She was tired all the time, but at the same time, she would randomly crave things in the middle of the night. And then there was the way she looked at food one minute like she wanted to devour it, and the next, she'd be pushing her plate away.
I've seen this before.
This isn't my first time dealing with a pregnant woman, and while Fatima kept brushing it off as stress, I knew better. And let's be real—neither one of us had been slacking in the baby-making activities. If she was pregnant? It wouldn't exactly be shocking.
"Baby," I said one morning as she sat on the couch, holding her stomach lightly.
"Hm?" she hummed, barely looking up from her phone.
"You feeling okay?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
She sighed, stretching her legs out. "Yeah, just a little tired. But we've been working non-stop, Zac. It's normal."
I sat next to her, resting my arm over the back of the couch. "You sure it's just work? 'Cause I've been noticing some things."
She glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. "What things?"
I smirked. "The fact that you knocked out at 8:30 last night, or how you gagged brushing your teeth this morning. Or how you keep running hot and cold with food."
She scoffed. "Zac, you're overthinking. I'm just tired."
I tilted my head, giving her a knowing look. "Uh-huh. And you were just 'tired' when you almost bit my head off last night because I didn't bring you that lemon slushie fast enough?"
Her lips parted, but she had no real argument.
"Fatima," I said, reaching for her hand. "I've seen this before. I know pregnancy signs when I see 'em."
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Zac, I really don't think I'm pregnant."
I nodded. "Alright, cool. Then take a test."
She blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"If you really don't think you are, take a test and prove me wrong," I challenged, my smirk growing.
She sighed, rubbing her temple. "Zac..."
"What?" I leaned in, dropping my voice. "You scared I'm right?"
She shot me a glare, then stood up. "Fine. I'll take a test. Just so you can stop acting like a damn detective."
I grinned, watching as slipped on her slides. "Want me to come with you?"
"No," she said quickly, shaking her head. "I got it. Stay here and keep Kolby entertained."
I leaned back, watching her with amusement. "Alright, baby. I'll be right here when you come back with the I told you so moment."
She rolled her eyes again before walking out, and I just sat there, knowing deep down—I was about to be right.
I knew she was stalling. She had been in the bathroom for way too long, and at this point, I wasn't about to wait around for her to talk herself out of it.
Kolby was locked in on her tablet, completely unbothered, so I took the opportunity to run upstairs. The second I got to the door, I knocked lightly. "Tima, you good?"
The door cracked open, and she peeked out, rolling her eyes. "Zac, I think this is a waste of time. I'm telling you, Jordan has us running wild with all this promotion. I don't think I'm pregnant."
I crossed my arms, leaning against the doorframe. "So take the test and prove me wrong."
