I was pregnant.
I was holding the pregnancy test in my hand, staring at it like it might change.
I was pregnant with Asher’s baby. My plan had come to fruition.
I was finally going to be with him, just like it was supposed to be in the beginning. No more obstacles. No more waiting. This was our future. Our family.
I couldn’t stop smiling.
I wanted to run to Asher, tell him everything, let the joy explode between us—but I knew it had to wait. There was something I had to do first. Something that mattered just as much.
I slipped the pregnancy test into the pocket of my jeans, took a moment to breathe, and walked down the stairs.
Mom and Dad were in the living room.
Dad was reading, Mom was watching TV, and her arms folded across her chest.
I stepped inside, and I couldn’t hide it—th
