She was in a giving mood because foolishly she hoped it might offset the seriousness of the news she had to deliver. That and how little they'd seemed to see each other lately. They had to get in their moments when they could. "Good to know no bailing out was necessary," she said. "But that number depends completely on you, love."
She waited on pins and needles as he took in the news. There were any number of possibilities: he wouldn't say a word and simply get up and leave. He would stare at her until she was forced to keep talking. And yes--he would asks her if it was his. If he had to get it out of his system, as long as he didn't press the issue, she would've answered without too much of a fuss.
"Thank you," she said softly, staring at her hands. "Take all the time you need. But--it gets worse." She turned to look at him, as difficult as it was, and said in a voice so quiet she was barely audible, "It's too late for any...decisions. That's what I mean about not getting mad at me. I didn't know until yesterday, but I've been--ignoring certain symptoms for a while now. I thought it was just stress and lack of exercise. Stupid, stupid, stupid, I know, you can say it all you want if you'd like, I've been telling myself that enough in the past twenty-four hours. But it's far enough along now that I can feel it kicking."