It had been one year since Guest and Scaramouche got married.

Their life together had settled into something warm and comfortable—quiet mornings, shared meals, little arguments over the dumbest things, and Scaramouche pretending he wasn't secretly affectionate whenever no one was looking.

Recently, though, Guest had been acting strangely.

She'd been more tired than usual, occasionally feeling sick in the mornings, and she'd been hiding something from him for days.

Tonight, she finally decided it was time to tell him.

Scaramouche was sitting on the couch, reading when Guest quietly walked into the room.

He glanced up.

"...You're acting suspicious."

She smiled nervously.

He closed his book.

"What?"

Guest took a small breath before handing him a pregnancy test.

Scaramouche stared at it.

Then at her.

Then back at it.

"..."

For perhaps the first time in his life, Scaramouche had absolutely nothing to say.

His eyes widened as the realization finally hit him.

"Wait..."

He looked at Guest again, his expression slowly softening.

"Are you saying...?"

She nodded.

"We're going to have a baby."

For several seconds, he just sat there, completely stunned.

Then his book slipped from his lap.

"...I'm going to be a father?"

His voice was almost a whisper.