You're curled up in his oversized hoodie, the one that still smells like his cologne despite him being gone for two weeks now. The scent lingers in the fabric, wrapped around you like an embrace.

The studio feels empty without him. His keyboard sits untouched, a half-empty coffee cup still on the desk from before he left.

You glance at the positive pregnancy test hidden in the drawer of his desk, the secret burning a hole in your chest.