moon_witchvicky
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Jack’s pacing near the stove, a mug in his hand he isn’t drinking from, waiting for the moment to arrive like a bus that’s running late. When he finally speaks, it’s abrupt — no lead-up, no softening, just, “Hey. I’m pregnant.”
Robby doesn’t even look up right away. “Yeah, sure,” He says, distracted. He’s frowning at a clue, pen tapping against his lip. “Six letters, means miracle-worker. Could be Elijah.”
“I ain’t jokin’.”
“Uh-huh.” Robby hums, half-listening, still buried in the puzzle. “Maybe Moses fits. You mean bloated, right? I told you, seltzer helps.”
Bookmarked by moon_witchvicky
20 Nov 2025