Delaney
She noticed the fatigue first, a bone deep tiredness that no amount of sleep seemed to touch, and then the specific, unmistakable nausea that arrived every morning around the same time Roman left for practice, and by the third week of dismissing it as stress from the playoff push, Delaney finally admitted to herself what she'd probably known for days.
She took the test alone, in the apartment bathroom, on a Tuesday morning while Roman was at optional skate, needing the privacy to process whatever the result turned out to be before she had to manage anyone else's reaction alongside her own.
Two lines. Clear, immediate, unambiguous.
She sat on the edge of the bathtub for a long time, test in hand, feeling a complicated wash of emotions she hadn't fully anticipated, joy and terror
