He freezes, laying the towel on the counter as his thoughts begin to spiral. 

The logical part of his brain tells him that if you were pregnant, you would have told him already… but the other part convinces him you’re hiding something big from him. 

He has no idea how long he stands there staring, but he eventually lets out a deep breath and tidies up the bathroom before finally stepping into your room. 

You’re sitting up in bed, scrolling through your phone when you look up at him. 

“There you are,” you smile. “I’ll never know why women get all the flack for taking so long when you’re living proof of men drawing out their night routines too.” 

You expect to get a laugh from him with that, but it’s more of a hum as he crawls in bed next to you. You could chalk it up to him just being tired, but when he doesn’t reach to pull you closer, you know something’s up. 

“What?” you ask, turning to face him even though he’s avoiding your gaze. 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head. 

“Andy…”

You know him better than that, and he knows you do. 

He lets out a breath, glancing at you before looking away again. 

“I—” He pauses, not wanting to come across as accusatory or mad. “I saw the… box in the trash in there.”

“Oh god,” you groan, gently facepalming yourself. You immediately know what he’s talking about even though he couldn’t get himself to say it out loud. “I can’t believe I forgot about that before you came over.”

He finally looks at you. “You forgot?”

“Yeah,” you shake your head at yourself. “That was stupid.” 

None of this is making him any calmer. 

“Oh, it was negative,” you quickly assure him. “Don’t worry, babe.”

He should feel a lot more relieved hearing you say that, but there’s still a tension in the air. 

“But you thought you might be… pregnant?” His voice is careful again. 

“Yeah… I mean,” you shrug, feeling a little embarrassed about it now that he’s dwelling on it. “Maybe. But I’m not, so…”

He doesn’t say anything right away, just looks at you. You can’t quite read him, but you can’t say the silence feels great right now.

“You’re upset,” you say quietly. You don’t mean to get defensive, but it seems better than letting the silence stretch any longer. “What? You think I’m irresponsible because there was even a chance?”

“What?” His brows knit together, a look of regret in his eyes. “No, that’s not it at all.”

His hand finally reaches for yours. The simple touch instantly makes you feel better, but you still don’t relax fully. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, pulling you closer like you wish he would have done before. “Stop. I promise that’s not it.”

“Then what?”

He takes a second to make sure he says what he wants to say carefully. 

“If it would have been positive, I wouldn’t have blamed you… Or been mad… Or anything like that.” He says it softly, but you can tell he’s being serious. “I just hate to think you felt anxious or scared and went through that alone when you took that test.” 

“Andy…”

“You could have told me.” 

“I wasn’t trying to hide it from you. It just happened so fast,” you admit. “I was scared, but I bought a test right away, took it, and it was negative. That was the end. No reason to make a big deal out of nothing.”

“Okay,” he nods, not wanting to make you feel worse. 

It’s an awkward silence that takes over, you can’t lie. But you focus on the sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear as he holds you close to him. 

It’s Andy who eventually interrupts the quiet. 

“I won’t snoop at your trash next time,” he jokes, pressing a kiss to the top of your head to soften the blow in case it doesn’t land. 

But he smiles when he hears you let out a short laugh. 

“And I won’t forget to take it out before you can see it next time,” you quip back.