Emma
The pregnancy test shows two pink lines.
I stare at it in the bookstore's tiny bathroom, hands shaking as the reality sinks in. Pregnant. We're going to have a baby.
My legs suddenly feel unsteady, so I lower the toilet seat and sit down heavily, still clutching the plastic stick. Two lines. Clear as day. No ambiguity, no maybe-if-you-squint-and-hope uncertainty. Just two definitive pink lines that are about to change everything.
Leo and I had talked about children, of course.
Someday, we'd said. When the bookstore is established, when we've been married longer than six months, when we feel ready.
We'd painted vague pictures of a future with little feet running through the aisles, children's story time in the reading corner, a nursery in the cabin where morning light would stream through windows overlooking the mountains.
Apparently, our baby has other plans.
"Emma?" Leo's voice carries through the door, warm with concern. "Everything okay in there?"
I open the door, still clutching the test, unable to form words. His eyes drop to the plastic stick in my hands, and I watch understanding dawn across his rugged features.
"Is that...?" His voice comes out rougher than usual.
"Positive." The word emerges as barely a whisper.
For a moment that stretches like eternity, he's completely still. Then his face transforms, breaking into the most beautiful smile I've ever seen.
"We're having a baby?" He reaches for me, hands gentle as they frame my face.
"Are you happy?" I ask, suddenly nervous. "I know we said someday, but this is so much sooner than we planned."
"Emma." He kisses me softly, thoroughly. "I'm over the moon. A baby. Our baby."
Relief floods through me like a dam breaking. "Really? You're not worried about the timing?"
"Really." His hand drops to my still-flat stomach. "When?"
"About seven and a half months. Late July, maybe early August."
"A summer baby." His eyes are bright with wonder. "Born right here in Silver Ridge, with the mountains as their backyard."
I melt into his embrace, looking out at the town that's become our home. Through the bookstore windows, I can see the mountains that have become our world, Main Street bustling with neighbors who've become family.
This is where our child will grow up. Where they'll take their first steps, learn to read surrounded by thousands of books, have adventures in forests I'm still discovering. They'll be raised by an entire community that already feels like family.
"I love you," I whisper against his chest.
"I love you too. Both of you." His hand presses protectively against my stomach. "Our little family."
Sometimes the best adventures really do begin with getting scammed. A fake rental listing led me to true love, a new home, and now a future I never dared to imagine. Sometimes happily ever after starts with a key that doesn't work and a door that opens anyway.
And sometimes the greatest gift comes not when you're ready for it, but exactly when you need it most.