(Rebecca's POV)
I go to the kitchen.
Start dinner.
Eric will be home in two hours. He'll be packing. Reviewing term sheets. Calling his deal lead.
I'll be making dinner.
The test will be in the drawer.
The baby — eight weeks, the size of a raspberry, I looked it up on my phone in the pharmacy parking lot with the same calm I bring to spec sheets — the baby will be there too.
Waiting for the right moment.
It is the right call.
I know it is the right call.
I'm giving him this trip clean. Letting him focus. Not weighing him down with news he can't act on from five thousand miles away.
It's the thing a good partner does.
Eric comes home at seven.
I hear his car in the driveway. The door. His bag hitting the floor in the hall.
"Hey." He appears in the kitchen doorway. Tie loosened
