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Columbina didn’t expect the apartment to be so quiet when she came home from work.
Usually, even on the tired days, there was something. She’d hear Sandrone tinkering with some half-finished project, the clink of a mug left on the counter, the soft sound of music drifting in from the living room.
But tonight there was only stillness and the faint sound of someone trying very hard not to cry.
A cold weight dropped in Columbina’s chest.
“Sandrone?” Columbina called softly, already slipping off her shoes as fast as she could. “where are you, love?”
She found Sandrone curled up on the couch with a blanket around her shoulders, hair a little messy and eyes red and wet. There was a glass of water on the table beside her, a box of tissues, and in her trembling hands, she was holding something small and white.
Columbina’s expression changed immediately, all gentleness and concern as she crossed the room and knelt in front of her.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said quietly, resting her hands over Sandrone’s knees. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Feeling sick?”
Sandrone shook her head quickly, then covered her mouth as another shaky breath escaped her. “No, I- I don’t know, I just…” Her fingers tightened around the little plastic test.
“I wasn’t feeling well all day. I thought maybe I was coming down with something, or maybe I was just stressed, but then I started thinking, and…”
Sandrone’s voice cracked.
Columbina’s gaze finally dropped to the object in her hands. The world seemed to pause for a heartbeat as she blinked. “Sandrone,” she breathed, her voice soft and gentle. “Is that…?”
Sandrone gave a small, helpless nod. “I took a pregnancy test.”
Columbina didn’t interrupt. She just stayed there, warm hands steady on Sandrone’s knees, giving her space to say it in her own time.
“It came out positive,” Sandrone whispered.
The confession broke the last of her resolve. Tears spilled hot and fast down her cheeks as the words rushed out of her.
“I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to tell you like this, I wanted to be calm and maybe even make it sweet somehow, but I’ve just been sitting here for an hour freaking out because I didn’t know if you’d be happy or scared or upset or-or-“
Columbina didn't let her finish. She shifted onto the cushions and enveloped Sandrone in her arms. She tucked her securely against her chest, holding her tight as if she could shield her from every fear at once.
“Oh, my love,” she murmured, stroking her hair. “Hey. Hey, It’s okay, breathe for me. I’m here.”
Sandrone clutched at her shirt. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” Columbina pulled back just enough to cup her face, brushing away tears with her thumbs. “Silly girl, what on earth are you apologizing for?”
“I’m a mess.”
“No you’re not. you’re just scared and you’re allowed to be scared. ”
Sandrone let out a weak, wet laugh at that, and Columbina smiled with such unbearable tenderness that it made her want to cry all over again.
“I felt so alone all day,” Sandrone admitted in a tiny voice. “I kept looking at it and hoping I’d read it wrong. And then hoping maybe I didn’t read it wrong. And then felt terrible for being scared because what if this is something wonderful and I’m ruining it by panicking first?”
Columbina leaned her forehead against Sandrone’s. “You are not ruining anything. You had big news dropped into your lap while you felt awful and you had no one here to hold your hand. Of course you were shaken up.”
Sandrone sniffled, her eyes searching the steady warmth of Columbina’s gaze. “You’re truly not mad?”
“Sandrone, my love, of course I’m not mad” Columbina said, “I could never be mad at you for this.”
There was something so sure and immediate in her voice that Sandrone’s shoulders finally started to loosen.
Columbina took the test carefully from Sandrone’s hand and looked at it for a second. Her eyes immediately dawned in wonder. Then she looked back at her wife, eyes shining now for a completely different reason.
“You’re pregnant?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper, like the word itself was precious.
Sandrone nodded, her lip wobbling. “Yes. Pregnant.”
And then Columbina laughed. not loudly, not in disbelief, but in that breathless, tearful way someone does when joy arrives too suddenly to fit inside them. She pressed both hands over her mouth for a moment. Her eyes started filling.
“Oh,” she whispered. “Oh, sweetheart.”
Sandrone watched her with bated breath. “Is that… a good ‘oh’?”
Columbina gave her a look so fond it could have physically melted her. “That’s a very, very good oh.”
That was all Sandrone needed before she started crying again, only this time with relief. Columbina pulled her closer, peppering her face with soft, feather-light kisses on her temple, her tear-stained cheek, the corner of her mouth.
“Shhh, you’re okay,” Columbina murmured between kisses. “we’re more than okay. we’re going to figure this out together, okay?”
“You’re really happy?”
“I’m very happy.” She smiled and rested a hand over Sandrone’s, then very gently guided it down to her stomach beneath the blanket. “And I know it’s all right if you’re scared, because I’m a little scared too.”
Sandrone blinked. “You are?”
“Of course.” Columbina gave a tiny laugh. “this is huge news.” She squeezed her hand. “But I’m happy anyway. Maybe even because it’s real now”
“I spent the whole afternoon imagining every possible worst-case scenario,” Sandrone confessed.
“I know you did. I’m sorry I wasn’t home sooner to hold your hand.”
For a long moment they just sat there, holding each other, the weight of it settling in slowly. Columbina reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from Sandrone’s face. “Have you eaten anything today, love?”
Sandrone hesitated. “…I had cookies.”
“Just cookies?”
“And some tea.”
“Mm.” Columbina kissed her forehead. “All right. First, I’m making you something light to eat. Second, you’re not spending another minute alone with your thoughts tonight. Third, we’ll make an appointment and take this one step at a time.”
Sandrone looked at her, eyes still glossy. “You make it sound so simple”
“It won’t always be,” Columbina said with a soft, honest smile. “But I can make sure you never have to carry it alone.”
That seemed to comfort her pregnant wife more effectively than anything else had. Sandrone leaned forward and buried her face in Columbina’s shoulder, holding her tightly.
“I love you,” she mumbled.
Columbina wrapped both arms around her. “I love you too. So much. Both of you, already.”
Sandrone made a soft, startled sound and pulled back just enough to look at her.
Columbina’s expression turned shy in the sweetest way. She glanced down toward Sandrone’s stomach, then back up again with misty eyes. “Too soon?”
“No,” Sandrone whispered, voice trembling all over again. “No, that was… that was nice.”
“Good.” Columbina smiled and kissed her gently, lingering just long enough to say everything she couldn’t fit into words. “Then let me say it properly.”
She slipped off the couch and onto her knees, resting her cheek delicately against Sandrone’s belly, one hand still linked with hers, the other spread carefully over her stomach through the blanket.
“Hello baby,” Columbina said softly, her voice full of awe and warmth. “Your mommy had a very hard day, so we’re going to take extra good care of her, alright?”
Sandrone’s breath caught sharply. It sounded almost like a sob.
Columbina looked up immediately. “Too much?”
“No,” Sandrone said, looking away. Whether Columbina was being playful or sincere, she always had a way of making Sandrone feel entirely weak. “No, I just- you’re being so sweet.”
“Well, yes. someone has to be sweet enough for the both of us” Columbina said playfully, “it’s one of my better qualities.”
Sandrone laughed through her tears, and the sound lit up the whole room.
All this time, Columbina had been waiting to hear that laugh. Seeing the spark return to her wife's eyes, she felt a surge of warmth. Her heart was, at last, completely full.
She got back up onto the couch and tucked herself beside Sandrone again, wrapping the blanket around both of them this time. Sandrone melted against her, exhausted from crying, from worrying, from holding herself together all day with no one to lean on.
“You should have called me,” Columbina murmured.
“I didn’t want to bother you at work.”
“You could never bother me.”
“I just… didn’t want you to panic. But I know better now.”
Columbina kissed the top of her head. “Good. Just call me next time, then”
“What do you mean next time?!"
For a second, Columbina just looked at her, then she laughed. Soft at first then it got brighter and warmer, like the thought genuinely delighted her.
Sandrone blinked, already suspicious. “Why are you laughing?”
Columbina pressed another kiss to her hair, shoulders still shaking faintly. “You’re cute when you panic.”
“I’m not--Columbina!”
“Mhm.” Columbina hummed, completely unconvinced. “You weren’t spiraling alone over a pregnancy test, right?”
Sandrone’s face heated. “That’s not--this is serious.”
“It is,” Columbina agreed, her thumb tracing lazy circles against Sandrone’s arm. “But you’re the one acting like this is the only time we’ll ever do this.”
Sandrone narrowed her eyes. “…It is.”
Columbina tilted her head, smile turning just a little sharper. “So confident.”
“I am.”
Her thumb traced idle circles against Sandrone’s arm. “You sound like someone who just realized one child is already overwhelming enough.”
Sandrone huffed. “Exactly. One is plenty”
“Ah.” Columbina nodded thoughtfully. “So you’re saying the second one will be the problem.”
“Second--?!” Sandrone pulled back, staring at her. “I never said a word about a second one!”
Columbina’s laughter slipped out again, softer but no less amused.
“You didn’t have to,” she murmured, leaning in just enough to brush her lips near Sandrone’s temple. “You just assumed I was talking about this one.”
Sandrone opened her mouth--then closed it.
Columbina smiled, slow and knowing. “I was thinking long-term, my love.”
“Columbina.”
“Yes?”
“There is no next time.”
“Mhm.” A comfortable pause followed. Then, lightly, “We’ll revisit that after you’ve stopped pretending you wouldn’t get attached.”
Columbina’s teasing was laced with something warm and certain. “So… I’ll expect your call next time, then.”
After a while, Sandrone spoke quietly, “Do you really think we can do this?”
Columbina’s answer was instantaneous. “Yes.”
Sandrone tilted her head back, blinking in surprise. “Wow. That was fast.”
“Because it's true,” Columbina repeated, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “I mean I know we won't do everything perfectly. We’ll be nervous and exhausted; we’ll be completely overwhelmed. We’ll probably read too many parenting books, sleep far too little, and have heated, ridiculous arguments over names...”
“But we’ll love this child. And we’ll love each other. So yes. we can do this”
Sandrone looked up at her then, her expression full of an awe usually reserved for the stars.
“I suspect,” Columbina added, her eyes dancing with newfound mischief, “that somewhere in our future, there is a very spoiled little one who is going to have you wrapped entirely around their finger.”
Sandrone sniffed, trying to reclaim her dignity. “Me? You’re the soft one.”
“No I’m not. I’m strict and composed.”
“Oh, please,” Sandrone countered, a small spark of her usual fire returning. “You’re the one who already started giving them a pep talk.”
“Says the one who was weeping over the test.”
“I was having a crisis!” Sandrone grumbled, though the edge was gone as it was softened by the way Columbina leaned in to press a lingering kiss to her cheek.
“I know. I’m sorry. you were having feelings,” Columbina said gently.
They stayed like that while the evening stretched around them, tangled together beneath the blanket, one pair of hands clasped over another atop Sandrone’s stomach.
The fear hadn’t vanished entirely, but it no longer filled the room. It had been tamed by tenderness, by honesty, by the thought of not having to face something life-changing alone.
Eventually Columbina rose to make soup and toast, and Sandrone, at her insistence, stayed exactly where she was.
From the kitchen Columbina kept talking in that easy way of hers, asking whether ginger tea sounded good, wondering aloud if they still had honey, promising that tomorrow they would buy proper groceries and maybe one of those absurdly soft blankets Sandrone always pretended not to want.
Columbina came back with chicken noodle soup, toast, and ginger tea balanced carefully on a tray. Her serene expression always made Sandrone suspicious.
That suspicion only grew when Columbina set the tray down, tucked herself neatly beside her again, and looked far, far too pleased with the situation.
Sandrone narrowed her eyes. “Why are you smiling like that?”
Columbina reached up to smooth a hand through her hair. “I’m just starting to imagine how much more moody you’re going to get now that you're pregnant.”
“Oh shut up. I’m dead serious.”
“So am I.”
Sandrone huffed and folded her arms, though it lost some of its force with the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders.
Her eyes drifted downward for a moment, toward the hand she still had resting over her stomach, and her face warmed all over again.
“I still can’t believe it,” she muttered.
Columbina’s smile softened. “Neither can I.”
“No, I mean it.” Sandrone groaned quietly and dropped her head back against the couch. “I genuinely cannot believe this happened.”
Columbina tilted her head. “Mm. I can think of one or two ways it might have happened.”
Sandrone turned to stare at her in disbelief. “Columbina!”
“What?” she asked innocently, though the wicked glimmer in her eyes betrayed her.
Sandrone pulled the blanket higher, as if it could shield her from the heat rising to her face. “I shouldn’t have helped you during your rut.”
Columbina’s mouth curved into a wicked little smile. “Oh? That’s an interesting revision of history.”
Sandrone instantly looked wary. “Don’t start.”
“I’m only saying,” Columbina continued, settling in more comfortably, “that if memory serves, you were the one who held my face and told me not to worry.”
Sandrone’s face turned red. “I was only trying to be nice.”
“Oh you were indeed, very nice.”
“That is not--that’s different.”
“Mm.” Columbina leaned closer, eyes half-lidded and heavy with amusement. “And then, if I remember correctly, you’re the one who said, very firmly, that we did not need protection.”
Sandrone made a strangled noise of protest. “Why would you say it out loud?!”
“Because it’s true.”
“You’re evil.”
Columbina laughed softly. “No, my love. I’m just being honest!”
Sandrone snatched a cushion and pressed it to her face. “I hate you.”
“That’s not what you were whispering that night.”
The cushion lowered just enough for Sandrone to glare at her, her eyes watering from the sheer intensity of her blush. “Columbina--!”
By now, Columbina was shamelessly enjoying herself. She was deliberately provoking her wife and knew exactly what she was doing. Her expression remained soft, but there was a playful cruelty in how calm she sounded.
“You were so confident,” Columbina went on, “Very determined. Very sweet. Telling me not to think too hard, that you’d take care of me--”
“Stop talking!”
“--that I should just let you--”
“Columbina-!”
Sandrone looked like she was seconds away from actual combustion. She was flustered beyond reason, her breathing uneven, her eyes shining suspiciously bright again, not just from embarrassment, but from the emotional whiplash of having gone from crying in panic to being mercilessly teased while hormonal and overwhelmed.
Columbina saw it the moment Sandrone’s lower lip trembled. The teasing vanished from her expression at once.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, immediate regret replacing all that smug delight. “Hey. Come here.”
Sandrone swatted weakly at her shoulder. “No, don’t ‘come here’ me, you menace--”
Columbina didn't pull away. Instead, she caught Sandrone’s hand, bringing it to her lips. She kissed her knuckles. Then her wrist. Then the very center of her palm.
Then, before Sandrone could decide whether she wanted to protest or hide, Columbina was all over her in the gentlest possible way, kissing her flushed cheeks, her forehead, the corner of her eye, the tip of her nose, her temple, her jaw, every inch of her face she could reach between murmured apologies and laughter.
“I’m sorry,” Columbina whispered between kisses. “Sorry, sorry, sorry--”
Kiss.
“Not sorry”
Kiss.
“Maybe a little sorry--”
Kiss.
“Mostly sorry that you’re upset--”
Kiss.
“But not sorry that I love you--”
Kiss.
“Or that you’re carrying our baby--”
Kiss.
“Or that you were so sweet to me that night--”
“Columbina-!” Sandrone’s protest dissolved into a breathless sound that was far too soft to be convincing.
She was absolutely drowning in it.
Every kiss made her melt a little more, anger slipping through her fingers no matter how hard she tried to hold onto it.
Columbina’s hands were careful and warm, one cupping her cheek, the other around her waist, keeping her tucked close while she kissed every trace of tears away as if she could love the embarrassment right out of her.
It was infuriating, unfair and devastatingly effective.
“Stop,” Sandrone managed to mumble, though her eyes were already fluttering shut, her body betraying her by leaning into the warmth. She was already folding in on herself.
Columbina kissed her again. “Mm?”
“You know this doesn’t count as a real apology.”
Another kiss, slow and deep. “That sounds like a ‘no’ to me.”
Sandrone let out a tiny, helpless noise and shoved at Columbina’s shoulders with both hands. It wasn’t a serious push, more the desperate effort of someone who was far too flustered and needed just a sliver of space before she dissolved completely.
“You need to stop kissing me for one second,” she said, voice embarrassingly unsteady. “I’m trying to stay in a bad mood.”
Columbina drew back just enough to look at her, eyes wide with mock solemnity. “Ah. I see. I’ve been undermining your efforts.”
“Yes.”
“My mistake.”
“You’re doing it on purpose”
Columbina smiled. “You know me so well.”
Sandrone stared at her, trying very hard to stay annoyed, but her face was still burning and her eyes were wet and she was so clearly losing the battle. Columbina looked as though she might melt just watching her.
“I hate that you know exactly how to comfort me when I’m in a bad mood,” Sandrone muttered at last.
There was such reluctant affection in it that Columbina’s entire expression went soft.
She brushed her thumb beneath Sandrone’s eye. “That’s because I’ve studied very hard.”
“Oh, have you?”
“Extensively.” A gentle kiss to her cheek. “It’s my life’s work.”
Sandrone rolled her eyes weakly. “Your methods are biased.”
“Perhaps. But the results are excellent.”
That finally pulled a laugh from her, quiet and unwilling and precious. Columbina’s heart swelled
Sandrone looked at her for a moment, then sighed and let herself lean back into her arms. Columbina welcomed her immediately, gathering her close under the blanket and tucking Sandrone’s head beneath her chin.
For a while neither of them spoke. Columbina just held her, stroking slow lines down her back, pressing absentminded little kisses into her hair. Sandrone could feel the steady rhythm of her breathing, the warmth of her body, the way she kept one hand protectively splayed over Sandrone’s side like she couldn’t bear not to be touching her.
“I was really scared today,” Sandrone said quietly.
“I know.” Columbina’s voice was soft, all teasing stripped away. “I’m sorry you had to sit with that by yourself.”
“And then you came home and made fun of me.”
“I did,” Columbina admitted. “I was overcome with unbearable joy and chose to become insufferable.”
Sandrone snorted. “That’s one way to phrase it.”
“I can try again.” Columbina tipped her head down and kissed her hairline. “I’m happy and a little overwhelmed, but teasing you is one of my favorite things in the world because you’re so beautiful when you’re flustered.”
Sandrone made a sound of complaint, but it lacked any real edge.
Columbina continued, gentler still. “But I never want to make your hard days harder. Not really.”
Sandrone went quiet, shifting just enough to look up. “You don’t think I’m being…dramatic?”
Columbina smiled with that aching tenderness that always made Sandrone feel a little undone. “My love, you could cry on my shoulder for three days straight and I’d still think you were the loveliest thing I’ve ever been trusted with. But yeah, you’re a little bit dramatic.”
Sandrone’s face crumpled all over again.
“Oh, no,” Columbina murmured fondly. “Was that too sappy?”
“You know it was.”
“Your cheeks are all red because you liked it.”
“I hate that you’re right,” Sandrone whispered.
Columbina kissed her again, slower this time, with no teasing to it at all. Just tenderness. Just devotion. Just soft, patient affection until Sandrone stopped trying to hide how much she needed it.
When she finally relaxed fully against her, all warm and limp and pink-cheeked, Columbina wrapped both arms around her and held her as though she intended to keep every bad feeling in the world several feet away.
“You’re stuck with me now,” Columbina murmured.
Sandrone let her eyes drift shut. “I was already stuck with you.”
“True. But now you’re extra stuck.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“It does to me.”
Sandrone smiled faintly. “You’re ridiculous.”
Columbina laughed under her breath. “Mm. Very well.” She kissed the top of her head. “But for the record, I’m only a little sorry.”
Sandrone reached out and gave her a sharp pinch on the side. Columbina yelped, then laughed so hard she nearly tipped sideways on the couch, taking Sandrone with her.
Sandrone’s mood had softened into something fond. Her eyes were still a little swollen, her face still warm with embarrassment, but now every time Columbina looked at her, it was with such adoration that she could hardly bear it.
“You’re staring,” Sandrone mumbled.
“I know.”
“Why?”
Columbina smiled and nudged their joined hands against Sandrone’s stomach. “Because my beautiful wife is carrying my child and because even when she’s grumpy, she’s unbearably lovable.”
Sandrone’s throat tightened. “That’s very unfair,”
“What is?”
“Saying things like that when I’m this emotional.”
Columbina’s eyes turned impossibly soft. “Then I suppose I’d better keep saying them for the next several months.”
Sandrone hid her face in Columbina’s shoulder. “You really are the worst.”
Sandrone melted completely, she felt safe in the arms of the woman who knew exactly how to rile her up, fluster her senseless, kiss her through her tears, and love her so thoroughly that even a terrible day could end like this
And for the first time since seeing the little pink lines appear, Sandrone let herself rest a hand over her stomach and feel something other than fear.
Columbina found Sandrone looking down with a dazed sort of wonder. “What is it?”
Sandrone looked up, her eyes wet but peaceful. “I think,” she said slowly, “I’m starting to believe this might actually be something good.”
Columbina smiled, radiant and tender, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“It is,” she said. “And whatever comes next, we’ll meet it together.”
This time, when Sandrone cried, she did it smiling.