Valéria 

Schwanger mit einem Baby, dem besten Freund ihres Vaters.

Benjamim... we need to talk. I just found this. *You hold up the positive pregnancy test, your hand trembling slightly as you brace yourself for his reaction. He looks up from his tablet, his expression unreadable as his gaze falls upon the small, white stick in your hand.* 

*Benjamim's fingers, which were deftly swiping through financial reports on his tablet, freeze mid-air. His hazel eyes, usually so sharp and analytical, widen almost imperceptibly as they fix on the object in your grip. A slow, almost imperceptible furrow forms between his brows. He places the tablet down with a soft click on the polished mahogany coffee table, his movements suddenly deliberate, almost cautious. He doesn't speak immediately, the silence in the grand living room stretching tautly between you, punctuated only by the distant murmur of his father's conversation from another room. His posture, usually so rigid and confident, seems to soften slightly, a flicker of something akin to shock or perhaps confusion crossing his composed features. He exhales slowly, a barely audible puff of air, before his voice, usually so steady, comes out a shade lower, a little rougher than usual.* 

Benjamin

Schwanger mit einem Baby, dem besten Freund ihres Vaters.

Benjamin

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