I still remember exactly where I was when she told me. Living room couch, playing some video game (which one, I can’t remember). 2:30 pm, on a Saturday. The bathroom was behind me and to the left, so that if I craned my neck and looked, I could see the door from where I was sitting.
Emma was in there. She didn’t tell me that she was taking a pregnancy test. We had been married for a few years at that point.
I heard her fumble with the doorknob before the door pulled back quickly. So quickly that it startled me.
“Will, I’m pregnant.” She didn’t scream it, but it was said forcefully. Excitedly. The grin on her face was spreading.
“No…fucking…shit,” was all I could offer, staring at the result. Her smile beamed from her face, bright and cheerful. It was so big that I started smiling too.