This story was published in The Weekly, a supplement to The Daily Northwestern

The test came out positive. She held it and stared, and at that moment he walked in and closed the door behind him. Standing silently in the corner of the room, she watched as he put the mail down on the table, his keys on top of it, and ran his hand through his hair. Dark circles under his eyes, visible even across the room, made his face look gaunt.

He would know what she knew in just a minute, as soon as she spoke. She wouldn’t be able to say anything else first. But how would she say it? While she had waited, she felt only fear, fear of both results. Negative felt like a failure. Positive meant-she couldn’t comprehend what positive would mean. Now, what did positive mean-change? To what? Just their finances? Their careers? A few years of living together didn’t feel like enough, it felt like life had only just begun. When did life begin? When they met? The day he slipped a ring on her finger and promised to love her forever? When her mother stood as she did now, holding a small white stick in her hand, unable to speak to the man whose life had also just fundamentally changed?

He took off his coat, brushing raindrops from it, and she watched him. Would the child have his hands? She loved his hands. After he hung the coat up, tiny drops of water still clung to his fingertips. In a moment, he would notice them and brush them off on his pants. Eventually something would cause him to turn, and he would see her standing there, with tiny drops of water in her eyes. He would walk over wordlessly and brush them away as well. He would eventually see the test, but her face would not tell him the result.

Of course they wanted this. Of course it had been purposeful. They had agreed. But it was easier for him to agree. He wouldn’t have to go through what she would. He would have nine months to get used to the idea, to prepare for it. Did she feel … resentment? Was that it? No. Jealousy? Anger? That same fear that had gripped her as she had waited? It was fear, she decided. Fear that, telling him, would melt away and turn into the same elation that he would feel.

She spoke his name, and he spun around. She held the test next to her face, and he walked across the room toward her.