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Probability of Paternity: 99.99%

Right underneath it:

Conclusion: Sumner Wells is not excluded as the biological father.

I read both lines again because this is one thing I refuse to misunderstand.

“This means you’re the biological father, right?”

Sumner takes the phone from my trembling hand and reads it himself. His eyes move over the result, then go back to the top before his shoulders finally drop on a long breath.

“Yeah.” His voice sounds rough when he looks at me. “That’s what it means.”

A laugh bursts out of me at the same time my eyes fill, and suddenly I’m laughing and crying at the same time like a fucking lunatic.

Sumner is still staring at the screen, but I’m watching him.

He spent the entire week making sure I knew nothing would change if this didn’t go our way, and I believed him when he said it. The relief on his face tells me how much of that calm was for my benefit.

His eyes close for a moment, and one hand comes up over his mouth. When he opens them again, they’re wet.

“The baby’s mine.”

“Yeah.”

The smile that takes over his face is so big and unguarded that my chest squeezes. He hands my phone back and immediately reaches for my stomach, spreading both hands over the bump and leaning over the center console to get closer.

“Hey, kid.” A shaky laugh slips out of him as he rubs both hands over my stomach. “Fuck. You really are mine.”

I cover one of his hands with mine. I’ve spent the last week so scared of what that stupid report might say that having the answer right here in front of me almost feels unreal.

Sumner looks up at me, still smiling, and I laugh when a tear makes it down my cheek.

“Shit.”

“Come here.”

He slides one hand around the back of my neck and pulls me toward him. I go willingly, meeting him over the console while his mouth finds mine.

The kiss is a little awkward because of the space between the seats and my stomach getting in the way, but neither of us seems to give a shit. I grab the front of his shirt and kiss him back while all the tension I’ve been carrying around for the last week finally starts draining out of me.

When his thumb moves slowly against the side of my neck, I think about telling him I love him.

I want to. Badly.

But so much of us has happened with this baby right in the middle of it. We met because we both wanted one. Figuring out what we are, moving in together, building this whole weird little life—it all happened while my stomach kept getting bigger.

I want the first time I tell Sumner I love him to belong to us.

Just me and him.

So I keep it to myself for now, even though I’m starting to think waiting much longer might actually kill me.

I just need to figure out how the hell I’m actually going to say it.

When we finally pull apart, Sumner stays close, his hand still curled around the back of my neck.

“You okay?”