Bella and I stood shoulder to shoulder in the bathroom, the soft hum of the vent filling the silence as we stared down at the envelopes in our hands. The door behind us separated us from Noah, who was in the bedroom just a few steps away, completely unaware.
He didn't know yet.
He didn't know that we were both pregnant.
"Do you think he'll be happy?" Bella asked quietly, her eyes never leaving the letter as her fingers tightened around the edges.
"Obviously," I replied, though my voice wavered despite my confidence. I slid the paper back into the envelope—the test results staring back at me only moments ago. Bella did the same. "I'm just... terrified. What if he doesn't want kids right now?"
Bella stepped closer and placed her hands firmly on my shoulders, forcing me to look at her. Her expression softened, steady and sure.
"Sis," she said gently, "we're talking about Noah. He's going to be absolutely ecstatic."
I exhaled slowly, the knot in my chest loosening as her words sank in.
"You're right," I murmured, nodding to myself. "Noah would absolutely love this news."
For a moment, we just stood there, holding onto the secret together—nervous, excited, and completely overwhelmed.
-
(Noah pov)
What were they talking about?
Why would I be happy about it?
I pulled my ear away from the bathroom door and crossed my arms, my heart thudding harder than it should've. The door creaked open a second later.
Bella and Elara stood there, both of them looking down at me with nervous smiles that didn't quite hide the tension in their faces. I raised a brow, wearing that familiar smug look, trying to keep things light even though something felt big.
"So," I said slowly, eyes flicking between them, "what's this whole thing about?"
"Well... um..." Bella started, scratching the back of her head, clearly stalling.
I shifted my gaze to Elara.
She looked terrified.
Not scared like she'd messed something up—more like someone standing at the edge of a cliff, knowing once they step forward, there's no going back. Her hands trembled slightly at her sides.
Then she inhaled sharply.
"We're pregnant."
The words hit the air clean and sharp.
For a split second, my mind went completely blank.
Pregnant.
Both of them.
My fiancées.
It all crashed into me at once—shock, disbelief, realization—followed immediately by something warm and overwhelming that surged straight into my chest.
I didn't say a word.
I just stepped forward and wrapped my arms around them both, pulling them in tight. Tears spilled freely as I held them, my hands shaking as I pressed my face into their shoulders.
I laughed softly through the tears, breath hitching, heart pounding.
This wasn't just happiness.
This was everything coming together—love, family, a future I didn't even know how to put into words yet.
I held them like I never wanted to let go.
"Oh—so you did end up telling him after all. Good."
Liz's voice came from the doorway, casual as ever, and it caught all three of us off guard.
I glanced up, still wrapped around Bella and Elara, my eyes red and puffy. Liz leaned against the frame with her arms crossed, completely unfazed, like she hadn't just walked in on one of the biggest moment of our lives.
"Can you make pizza again, Noah? I'm starving," she added.
Of all things, pizza.
Honestly? After everything that just happened, it sounded perfect.
I laughed softly, wiping at my eyes with the heel of my hand before leaning up to kiss Bella's temple, then Elara's cheek. They both smiled—still nervous, still glowing, still everything.
We padded downstairs together, the house quiet and warm around us. The kitchen lights flicked on, bathing the counters in that soft glow I was already starting to associate with home.
I pulled the dough from the fridge, already risen and ready—something told me a couple days ago that I should prep it early. I dusted the counter with flour and pressed my palms into it, stretching it slowly, feeling the resistance give way under my hands.
"Can I help?" Bella asked, appearing at my side, eyes bright and eager.
"Sure," I said, smiling. "You can do the sauce and toppings."
I reached into the fridge, grabbing the sauce, cheese, and everything else we liked, setting them out in a neat line. Bella took a spoon—way bigger than necessary—and scooped up a generous amount of sauce.
She spread it across the dough carefully, tongue poking out slightly in concentration. Surprisingly, she did a really good job, smoothing it evenly all the way to the edges.
"Hey," I teased softly, watching her work, "you're a natural."
She grinned, clearly proud of herself, and scooped up a little more sauce just to be sure.
Behind us, the house felt full—not loud, not chaotic—just full. Of warmth, of life, of something new settling in.
I lifted my head to talk to Bella—and then something beyond the glass caught my eye.
Movement.
Slow, heavy, unmistakably alive.
I turned toward the window, the kitchen light reflecting faintly off the glass, and there—right out in the open field—stood a horse. A full-grown one. Calm, unbothered, its head lowered as it tore mouthfuls of grass from the earth like it had every right to be there.
"...Uh," I said, blinking once, then again, just to be sure I wasn't losing it. "Elara, I think you might wanna see this."
Bella followed my gaze, freezing mid–sauce spread. "What the—"
She leaned closer to the window, eyes widening. "No way."
Elara came up behind us, wiping her hands on a towel as she peered past our shoulders. The moment she saw it, her breath caught.
"Holy shit," she said quietly, almost reverently. "That's a beautiful horse."
Outside, the animal lifted its head for a moment, gray coat catching the morning light, mane shifting gently in the breeze. It looked healthy—strong legs, steady stance—completely at ease on land that now belonged to us.
"The woman who gave us the tour never mentioned wild horses," Elara added, brows knitting slightly, more curious than concerned.
"I mean," Bella said, tilting her head as she studied it, "it kinda looks like Gold Ship."
I snorted before I could stop myself, laughter spilling out of me as I shook my head. "Of course you'd say that."
Bella grinned, unapologetic. "What? I'm right."
The horse flicked an ear, completely indifferent to our commentary, and went right back to grazing.
For a moment, the three of us just stood there—pizza forgotten, dough resting on the counter—watching this quiet, unexpected piece of life unfold right outside our window.
I turned back from the window, heart still thumping a little faster than it should, and looked up at Elara. The kitchen lights framed her just right, soft and warm, like the house itself was listening in.
"Can we keep it?" I asked, half-joking, half already emotionally attached. My voice came out hopeful despite myself.
Elara crossed her arms, glancing back out at the field. The horse had wandered a few steps farther, hooves pressing into the grass, tail flicking lazily as if it had already decided this place suited it just fine.
"I suppose so," she said after a beat. "We've got borders all around the land. Fencing, natural breaks, trees. I doubt it'll wander off—or even want to."
The words barely finished leaving her mouth before relief and excitement hit me all at once.
"Fuck yes," I breathed, grinning so hard my cheeks hurt. "Another win for the night."
Bella laughed beside me, leaning into my side as we all watched the horse in comfortable silence. Outside, the animal lowered its head again, completely unbothered, claiming our field without ceremony.
It felt... right.
Like the land was already answering back.
-
"Should we be thinking of names?" I said between bites of pizza, the crust warm in my hands. Bella had absolutely nailed the sauce-to-topping ratio—nothing sliding off, nothing soggy. Perfect.
Elara shook her head lightly as she chewed, steam rising from her sauce-only slice. No cheese, just a dusting of Parmesan—something she'd randomly decided she loved as of yesterday. "I think it might be a little early for that," she said calmly. "You literally just found out today."
"Yeah," Bella chimed in, barely pausing as she folded another slice in half and demolished it. "Let's at least wait until we know the genders. Then we can spiral properly."
I smiled, leaning back against the counter, when something outside caught my eye. "Oh—hey, look. The horse is back."
Bella followed my gaze toward the window, humming softly as she watched the gray shape move through the field again, unbothered and slow, like it had nowhere else it needed to be.
"I wonder where it sleeps," she said, genuinely curious.
Then, after a beat, without breaking eye contact with the window: "Do horses eat pizza?"
I snorted, shaking my head as I laughed. "Absolutely not."
She shrugged, entirely unfazed. "Just asking."
I looked at her—sauce on her fingers, crumbs on the counter, eyes full of wonder—and smiled to myself.
God, I love this woman so much.