The breath I took was very careful. "You knew."
"I suspected. I know what morning sickness looks like. My sister." He said it briefly, not an elaboration, just context. "I was giving you time to decide when to tell me."
I stared at him. "You were — you were waiting."
"You were clearly managing something. You weren't ready. Forcing it would have —" He stopped. "It wasn't the right approach."
"And now?"
"Now you've told me." His voice was very even. "And now we deal with it."
He said we like it was self-evident. Like there had never been any version of this conversation where the answer was anything other than we.
Something loosened in my chest that had been held very tight for a very long time.
"You haven't seen a doctor," he said.
"Not yet."
"That changes Monday." He picked up hi
