Forty is the perfect age!
«Izzy, whats taking so long? Did you fall asleep? Hurry up, or well be late for work!»
«Coming!» Isabelle flinched slightly, glancing at the bathroom door. She knew she was taking longer than usual, but she had her reasons. This whole week, shed been feeling sick in the morningssomething shed brushed off at first. Now, dread settled in her stomach.
She had a suspicion but couldnt bring herself to even think the word*pregnancy*. Shaking off the thought, she stepped out.
«Sorry,» she muttered to her husband. «Couldnt get my eyebrows right.»
«You do that in the bedroom!» Oliver frowned.
«Right, of course.» She didnt argue, hurrying to the kitchen to make coffee. They both loved it, but today, the smell alone turned her stomach.
«You alright?» Oliver asked, concerned.
«Fine. Just not in the mood for coffee.»
«Really?» He eyed her sceptically. «You looked like you were about to be sick. Are you ill?»
Isabelle wrapped her arms around herself. Just the thought of a baby made her tremble. Oliver moved closer, pressing a hand to her forehead.
«You dont feel hot Maybe stay home? Call in sicksay youll make it up next week. Last thing we need is you getting worse. Weve got the mortgage to think about»
Once he left, Isabelle sank onto the sofa, dread pooling in her chest. She knew what she had to dogo to the chemist and find out for sure. But the idea terrified her. Because then, it would be *real*.
*I just got that promotion, and Ollies rightthe mortgage, the holiday we wanted* Years ago, theyd dreamed of children, especially right after the wedding, when everything was rose-tinted and they were barely twenty. But it never happened.
Eventually, shed stopped thinking about it. Shed grown comfortable with their life together, and Oliver never mentioned kids anymore. Now, a baby would only complicate thingssleepless nights, endless expenses, all their plans upended.
With a groan, she forced herself to the chemist. The test confirmed her fears. *Positive.* Her hand drifted to her stomach, half-convinced she could already feel a change.
Then, unexpectedly, a flutter of warmth. Something tiny, *hers*, growing inside. The fear tangled with something elsejoy.
«Youll be the most loved baby,» she whispered.
But doubt crept back. She wasnt young anymore. What would Oliver say? What if he was angry? What if he didnt want this?
By evening, she was a wreck. When Oliver came home, she asked weakly, «Hungry?»
«Starving! What kind of question is that?»
He watched her closely as she fled to the kitchen. Something was off. Her eyesbrighter, softer. She moved differently, slower.
Then it hit him. His stomach twisted. He loved his Izzy, but if shed fallen for someone else
«Who is he?»
«What?» Fear flickered in her eyes, confirming his worst fear.
«The man youre in love with.»
«*What?* Oliver, what are you»
But he was already striding toward the door, then stopped. «Youre glowing. Smiling like youve won the lottery. If youve found someone else fine. Just tell me.»
Isabelle stood frozen, then blurted out, «OliverIm pregnant!»
His face went blank. Then, slowly, he stepped closer, searching her eyes. She took his hand, pressing it to her stomach.
«Your son or daughters in there,» she whispered.
A storm of emotions crossed his face. Thenhe pulled away and walked out.
Isabelle stood alone, heart cracking. Shed expected joy, or terror, but not *this*.
Half an hour later, she sat in the dark, numb, when the doorbell rang.
She wiped her tears, forced a smile, and opened the doorto a massive bouquet of her favourite roses. Oliver stood there, grinning.
«Here,» he said, thrusting them at her. Then, stepping inside, «Im sorry I left. I was justGod, Izzy, Im *so* happy! A baby! If its a boyTheo. A girlEmily. We need to call your mum, book a GP appointment»
He rambled on until he noticed her tears. «Hey, why are you crying?»
She buried her face in his shoulder. «I thought youd left for good. That you didnt want this That forty was too late.»
«Dont be daft,» he murmured, holding her tight. «Im not going anywhere. Fortys *perfect*.»
«But the mortgage, my promotionall our plans»
Oliver cupped her face. «Listen to me. A baby is worth all of it. Well manage. My salary covers us. And sleepless nights?» He grinned. «Bring them on.»
Isabelle melted against him, relief flooding her. Theyd figure it outtogether.
All three of them.
