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They never thought this day would come.
Not because they didn't want it—God, they did. But because life had a habit of rewriting their plans. And some heartbreaks leave cracks so deep, you stop believing miracles can fit inside them.
David stood frozen in the bathroom doorway, toothbrush in hand, staring at the tiny white stick Darrian was holding. His mouth hung open slightly, toothpaste foam forgotten.
Darrian, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, looked up at him with tears in his eyes and the most disbelieving smile David had ever seen.
"...It's positive," Darrian whispered, his voice shaking.
David blinked. "What?"
Darrian held up the test. "It's. Positive."
The silence stretched—just a beat too long—and then David dropped the toothbrush straight into the sink, water still running.
"You're—? You're pregnant?" he asked, barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loud would make it vanish.
Darrian nodded slowly. "Apparently the universe had other plans."
David staggered forward like he was in a dream. He dropped to his knees in front of Darrian, still staring at the test like it might sprout wings and fly away. "But the doctor said—"
"I know," Darrian said gently, setting the test down so he could cup David's face in his hands. "They said it was near-impossible. That your count was too low. That we shouldn't get our hopes up."
"But we did anyway," David whispered, voice thick.
Darrian nodded. "Because hope is stubborn. Like you."
David let out a watery laugh, and then his eyes filled. His breath hitched as he leaned forward, burying his face in Darrian's lap, arms wrapping tightly around his waist.
"We're having a baby?" he said, voice muffled.
"We're having a baby," Darrian echoed, running his fingers through David's hair.
They stayed like that for a long time. David's shoulders trembled as he cried—silent, overwhelmed tears of disbelief, relief, and love. Darrian held him through it all, blinking back his own tears.
"I really thought I couldn't give this to you," David finally said. "I made peace with it, but deep down, I was still... grieving it, I think."
"I know," Darrian murmured. "I saw you. I felt it, too."
"And now we're gonna be dads."
"You're gonna be amazing," Darrian said. "You already are."
David sat back and looked at him, eyes shining. "You're glowing."
Darrian laughed. "I'm crying."
"Still glowing."
They both laughed then, the kind of laugh that's half joy, half disbelief. The kind of laugh that comes after a long, hard road and a sudden sunrise at the end of it.
David reached for the test again, holding it gently like it might shatter. "You think we'll be okay?"
Darrian smiled, brushing his thumb over David's cheek. "We've faced worse. This is just the beginning of something beautiful."
David leaned in and kissed him—slow, soft, lingering—then pulled back and whispered against his lips:
"I can't wait to meet them."
Eight Months Later...
The nursery was painted soft greens and browns, tiny safari animals dancing along the wall. Darrian sat in the rocking chair, cradling a tiny bundle wrapped in a giraffe-print blanket.
David stood in the doorway, watching them with the kind of love that ached.
"She looks like you," David said softly.
"She cries like you," Darrian replied with a teasing grin.
David laughed as he crossed the room, kneeling beside the chair. He reached out, brushing a fingertip over their daughter's tiny fist. She curled it around his finger.
"Hi, baby girl," he whispered. "I'm your dad."
Darrian leaned his head against David's. "And I'm your Papa. And we love you more than anything."
The room fell quiet again, filled only with the soft sound of her breathing and the occasional creak of the rocking chair.
Their family.
Their miracle.
Their forever.
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