Page 32 of By the Letter

I shook my head. “Nope.” Then I handed him the ultrasound picture so he could look at it up close.

Ben:You’re going to drop a bomb like that and leave us hanging?

Me:Nate stormed in, sorry. And I’m not trying to be funny, Ade. This is real.

Nate sat next to me on my sofa, his elbows on his knees as he tapped on his phone.

Nate:He’s not fucking with us. Looked him square in the eye.

My and Nate’s phones both went off simultaneously with a video chat request, and he moved closer to me so we could share my screen.

Ben was grinning, and Adrian seemed perplexed. They spoke at once, asking two starkly different questions.

“Who’s the mama?” Ben asked, seemingly excited by this news.

“Are you sure it's yours?” Adrian, the most pessimistic of our quad, asked.

Nate poked at the numbers at the top of the printout. “This says eleven weeks, two days—and that was three days ago. This woman is almost twelve weeks. How many weeks are a pregnancy?”

“I don’t know.” Ben started counting on his hands. “There are fifty-two weeks in a year, but ladies aren’t pregnant that long. It’snine months, right? Four weeks in a month…what’s nine times four?”

“Thirty-six,” Nate supplied. “She’s already a quarter of the way pregnant?”

“Not how it works,” Adrian sighed. “A quick web search says a typical pregnancy is forty weeks. The first trimester is thirteen weeks.”

Ben scratched his head, frowning. “It’s not divided in quarters? That’d make a lot more sense.”

“It’s trimesters,” I replied. “She’s almost through her first trimester.”

“You didn’t say whether you’re sure it’s yours,” Adrian reminded me.

“It is.” Like I told Shira, I’d seen the faulty condom. She could have been with someone else before or after me, but I truly didn’t believe that. “I’m taking a paternity test to alleviate any doubt, but I know it’s mine.”

Ben clucked his tongue. “I thought you always wrapped it. I’m aghast at your recklessness.”

He sounded more amused than anything. It took a lot to shock my twin. I’d thought my impending fatherhood might’ve done it, but it seemed he was rolling with it.

“Broken condom,” I replied.

Nate studied my profile. “You don’t seem upset.”

“I’ve had two days to process it.” I lifted a shoulder. “It still doesn’t feel real, but no, I’m not upset about becoming a father. I think I’m capable and have the resources I need to give my kid a good life.”

Adrian leaned in toward the camera. “I wasn’t aware you were seeing anyone. Who’s the baby’s mother?”

Nate brought the ultrasound up to his face. “It says it right here. Goldman comma Shira. Wait…what?”

Ben’s eyes bugged. “Shira?ShiraShira? Like, the woman you trounced all over?”

“I didn’t trounce all over her,” I protested. “But that’s the one. Do you know any others?”

“I mean, I don’t knowher.” Ben puffed up his cheeks and blew out a heavy breath. “How the hell did that happen? Don’t you hate each other?”

“Wait. Slow down. Shira Goldman is carrying your baby?” Adrian pressed. “What the fuck, Roman?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to explain room ten, but I stopped myself. I couldn’t really articulate why since my brothers and I were open books. We were so close in age, we were stairsteps—with Ben and I sharing a step. At only a grade apart, we’d shared friend groups, played the same sports, and had taken care of each other at home when our mother had been disinterested in parenting and our father had been wrapped up in work.

This felt different, though. Something I wanted to hold sacred. Probably because we’d made a child out of it. It made what had come before it a hell of a lot more important than any ol’ fuck. If I was honest, even before I knew about the pregnancy, I had kept that night in room ten close to my vest.

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