Sophie
The bathroom is quiet except for the faint hum of the ceiling fan and the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.
I sit on the edge of the tub, one hand pressed over my mouth, the other holding a small white stick that’s about to change everything.
Two pink lines.
Clear as day.
I blink, like maybe I’ve imagined it. We weren’t exactly trying, but we hadn’t been preventing either.
Between Beck’s games, my work, and taking care of Caleb, life’s been full—beautifully, chaotically full.
I always figured we’d talk about it someday.
Plan it. But life, it seems, had plans of its own.
My throat tightens as I look down again, eyes stinging. I’m not scared. Just overwhelmed in that deep, chest-hurting way that only comes when something feels so impossibly right.
There’s a knock at the door.
“Hey, Soph? You almost ready?” Beck’s voice is warm, amused—the same tone he uses when Caleb’s been bouncing off the walls all morning. “Birthday boy’s getting impatient. I think he’s eaten half the frosting off his cake already.”
I take a shaky breath, swiping quickly at my eyes. “Yeah—one second!”
The handle clicks anyway, and before I can say anything, he’s stepping inside. His grin fades when he sees me—not scared, just instantly attuned, like he always is.
“Hey,” he says softly, brow creasing. “You okay?”
I look up at him, the test still trembling in my hand. His eyes flick to it, and I watch the realization hit him—the split second of shock, then the way it melts into something wide and bright and unguarded.
“Wait,” he breathes, a slow smile tugging at his mouth. “Are you—?”
I nod, my lip quivering. “Yeah.”
And then he’s across the room in two strides, hands on my face, forehead pressed to mine as we both laugh and cry at the same time.
“Oh, Soph…” he whispers, voice rough with emotion. “You’re serious?”
“Completely.”
He exhales a shaky laugh, pulling me into his arms and lifting me off the floor like he can’t help himself. “We’re gonna be parents.”
“You already are,” I murmur against his shoulder, smiling through my tears.
He sets me down just enough to look at me, eyes bright. “Yeah,” he says, voice soft but sure. “But now we’re doing it again. From the very beginning.”
I laugh, wiping under my eyes. “You’re not freaking out?”
“Freaking out?” He grins, kissing my forehead. “I’ve been hit by three-hundred-pound linemen at full speed. This? This is the best thing that’s ever blindsided me.”
I laugh, half-sob, half-smile, and melt back into him. His hands find mine, fingers tracing gently over my knuckles.
For a long moment, we just stand there in the glow of the morning light spilling through the bathroom window. The house is alive with the sound of laughter, and Caleb’s voice echoing down the hall, singing something wildly off-key.
And in the middle of it all, between the football games, the late nights, the chaos and the love, we’ve found something special, sacred. Something that’s ours.
Beck looks up at me, that same grin tugging at his mouth. “You ready, Mrs. Harrison?”
I nod, smiling through the tears. “Yeah. More than ever.”
He kisses me once more, softly, reverently, and when we step out of that bathroom together, I know without a doubt that life is about to get even louder, messier, and infinitely more beautiful.