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The hand that clutches the pregnancy test trembles. Shit. I’m really going to be a mom. Like I’m about to go from sex marathons and lazy Sundays to changing diapers, breast-feeding, and complaining to Brooke about how much it sucks to put a stroller in the trunk of a car while managing an infant.

“But what if I’m a terrible mother? What if they hate me because I mess up or think that I’m not as good as all the other moms in their class because I can’t cook, or bake, or even do much without fumbling—”

“Chloe, are you feeling okay? You left the dinner table in a rush.” Santiago’s voice carries through the closed door.

I left because my phone sent me an alert right in the middle of our dinner about missing my period two weeks in a row. Clearly, my tracking app has it more put together than me at the moment.

“Sure.” My voice croaks.

“Do you need any help?”

“Define what you mean by help?”

He coughs. “Well, umm, is there enough toilet paper in there?”

I’m tempted to open the door only to slam it in his face after.

“Just so you know, bathroom jokes are so not welcome in this marriage.”

“That didn’t make you laugh? Now I know something really is wrong with you.” The doorknob rattles, but the lock stays in place.

“Go away,” I mumble.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

I crawl to the door and turn the lock. It opens with a soft click, and Santiago enters the space. His eyes bounce between the test in my hand and my face.

“Because thanks to you and your magic sperm, I’m pregnant.”

His face leeches of color. He drops ungracefully onto the floor and pulls me into his body. “Holy shit. You’re pregnant.”

“It’s ‘holy shirt’ now. No cursing in front of the child, please.”

Santiago throws his head back and laughs. I crack a smile, but no laughter escapes me.

His brows draw together as he assesses my face. “What’s the matter? I thought this was what you wanted?”

The arms I love tighten around me, securing me to his body. God, I’ll miss him being able to hug me like this. It’ll never be the same once I become the size of a human beach ball.

“Chloe?” He places a soft kiss at the crook of my neck.

A few tears leak out of my eyes. “I’m happy. I promise I am.” And I really am, but it’s a lot to process right now, and my mind struggles to keep up.

“Then why are you crying?”

“Because I’m afraid I’ll never be good enough for our child.”

He squeezes me tighter before turning me around in his lap, forcing me to face him. His hand tucks a loose lock of my hair behind my ear. “You’ll be the best mother.”

“Of course you have to say that. You knocked me up, after all.”

He shakes his head. “No. I’m saying it because I truly believe you will be. The kind of love you share with those closest to you is the most precious gift, and I’m somewhat jealous I have to share it with—”

“Jellybean.”

“Jellybean.” He smiles wide, the brown color of his eyes lightening. “So, yeah, I’m jealous Jellybean will steal part of your love away from me, but I’ll manage.”

“How gracious of you.”

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