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She looks at me. And she still looks so beautiful, even through the look in her eye that tells me she’s expecting the worst.

“We need to talk.” I finally force out.

She nods.

I jerk my head toward our room.

She goes first. I follow, close the door soft so it doesn’t wake him, and stand there having no clue how to even start this conversation.

“Simon, what’s going on?” Blaire’s voice is quiet, but it cuts through the room.

I motion toward the bed, still unmade from this morning. “Come sit down and we can—”

“Are you leaving again?” she blurts out.

I freeze mid-step. My lungs seize.

Oh, fuck.

No.

Baby, no.

“Absolutely not,” I say, closing the distance between us in two strides. “Blaire—no. I am not leaving you. That is not what this is.”

She swallows hard, eyes already glassy. “Then what is it? You’ve barely looked at me in days. You’re distracted, you’re short with me, you’re—” Her voice cracks. “You’re somewhere else. Just tell me what’s happening.”

I sit on the edge of the mattress and pat the space beside me. She hesitates, then perches there, knees angled toward mine but not quite touching.

“It's about Veronica,” I start, voice rough.

Blaire's brow furrows. I'm sure out of all the things she was thinking may be bothering me, it absolutely had nothing to do with Veronica.

“I ended things with her the day Theo broke his arm—in the hospital, actually. I haven’t spoken to her since. Not until…” I exhale, long and shaky. “She called me Saturday night. She’s pregnant.”

The words land like a physical blow. Blaire’s shoulders curl inward, and for a second she looks smaller, like the air’s been punched out of her.

“Pregnant,” she repeats, barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know for certain it’s mine,” I rush to add, reaching for her hand. She lets me take it, but her fingers stay limp. “She says it is. But the timing… I’m not convinced. I told her I needed proof before I’d even consider anything.”

Blaire stares at our joined hands. “Is that who you’ve been texting? The calls you’ve been taking in the garage?”

“Yeah.” My thumb brushes over her knuckles. “And Monday when I said I was working late? I was at her first OB appointment. She asked me to come. I didn’t want to, but I needed to hear it from a doctor myself.”

“She’s definitely pregnant?” Blaire’s voice wavers.

I nod. “Timeline lines up with when she and I were together. I’m getting a paternity test the second it’s possible. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you until I had more answers.”

She studies my face for a long moment, searching. “What are you going to do if the baby is yours?”

I look away, jaw tight. “I don’t know yet. I haven’t let myself think that far. All I’ve been able to think about is how much this is going to hurt you.”

Her eyes flicker with something raw—fear, maybe, or the beginning of grief. I can’t stand it.

“I don’t want to lose you,” I choke out, finally forcing myself to meet her gaze. “That’s the only thing I’m sure of. I can’t lose you, Blaire.”

Her eyes are soft and sad, the way they always get when she’s trying to be brave for someone else. She reaches out, hesitant at first, then threads her fingers through mine properly.