The pink and positive pregnancy test rested on the bathroom counter, looking like a hand grenade with the pin pulled.

Sarah stood before it, blinking her way through a steamy mist from the shower, the two pink lines refusing to change no matter how many times she blinked. Thirty-seven. Unplanned. They'd agreed on that years back—no kids. Their lives were complicated enough with each other.

The bathroom door groaned open.

"Sarah?" Lucas's drowsy voice rang through the haze in her head. "You alright in—"

He stood stock-still in the doorway, his gaze fixated on the test. Sarah saw his face go through shock and terror, then something she couldn't place. Wonder? Fear? Both?

The silence hung between them, heavy with a thousand unspoken what-ifs.

Sarah's voice returned at last. "I don't know how this happened."

There was a silence. Then the curl of Lucas's lips. "I think we both do."

The laughter dispelled the tension. Sarah wheezed out a laugh that was close to hysteria. Lucas took the small space between them two steps and wrapped her dripping form in his warm-from-sleep t-shirt.

His heart thudded in her ear. "How are you?"

Sarah's eyes fluttered shut. "Scared. You?"

Lucas drew in ragged breaths. "Same." His palms roved aimless patterns along her spine. "And. something else."

She moved to scan his face. Gold morning light through the frosted glass softened his features, and his eyes revealed that secret tenderness they reserved for their anniversary mornings and surprise bouquets.

Sarah swallowed painfully. "We said—"

"I know what we said," Lucas interrupted gently. He cupped her face in his hand, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. "But maybe. maybe this is meant to be."

The words hung in the balance between them, as light as dandelion fluff. Sarah thought of all the things they'd made plans for—the traveling, the peaceful old age, the tidy life they'd imagined. All to be lost on something as infinitesimal as a poppy seed.

Lucas rested his forehead against hers. "Whatever you decide—"

"I'm keeping it." The words tumbled out before she could catch herself. Sarah's hands flew to her mouth, shocked at her own sureness.

Lucas's breath stalled. For an instant, they just looked at each other, the seriousness of the moment settling across them like snowflakes. Then his face folded into a smile so broad it could've illuminated the city.

He knelt, pressing his ear to her still-flat stomach with goofy, sweet sincerity. "Hey in there," he said softly. "It's your dad."

Sarah's sobs turned to a laugh. Lucas got to his feet, catching her tears on his lips. When he stood up straight, he cradled her face in his palms.

"We have no idea how to raise a child," Sarah whispered.

Lucas kissed her nose. "We'll manage."

"What if we're terrible at it?"

"Then we'll be terrible together."

The fears did not disappear. Sarah still woke up that night running off with all the possible ways things could go wrong. But wrapped in Lucas's steady warmth, his hand already splayed like a protector over her belly, the fear was. manageable.

Because wasn't that the way their entire love story had unfolded? Leaping before looking, and hoping whatever came next, they'd face it side by side.

As the light of morning bathed the room with a soft gold, Sarah placed her hand on top of Lucas's. Theirs was a future stretching out before them now—unknowable, unpredictable, impossibly altered from anything they'd ever dreamed.

And for the first time in her life, Sarah smiled into the unknown.

Certain journeys were not supposed to be mapped. Certain trips evolved step at a time. And the most wonderful adventures of all, she realized as Lucas's breathing returned to normal against her, many times began with one stray yes.