*Sue's perspective

Sue sat on the edge of the bed in the dark, phone pressed to her ear, legs tucked beneath her. The red dress from last night was still draped over the back of the chair where she’d left it. She hadn’t bothered changing out of the oversized T-shirt and underwear she’d thrown on when she got home.

Ryan’s voice was rough on the other end of the line. Hungry. A little ****.

She listened to him admit how badly he’d crashed and burned at the grocery store. How he didn’t know how to talk to pregnant women who weren’t already neglected and aching for attention. How he’d made dating app profiles and already matched with one woman who was thirty-four weeks along and had no idea what to say to her.

Then he asked her for help.

Bluntly.

Sue closed her eyes.

She should have shut it down. Should have told him he was moving too fast, that Lisa had only been last night, that he needed to slow down before he did something stupid. She should have reminded him that Malc was his best friend and that helping him chase pregnant women was a line she had no business crossing.

Instead she heard herself offering to coach him.

Offering to roleplay.

Offering to hear every filthy detail afterward.

And when Ryan said yes — low and immediate, no hesitation — something hot and complicated twisted low in her stomach.

“Alright,” she said quietly, staring at the ceiling. “Then we start tomorrow. I’ll text you in the morning. We’ll go through what to say to that match. And we’ll practice the rest.”

She could hear the shift in his breathing. The relief. The arousal.

“Thank you, Sue.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she murmured. “Just… be careful. And remember what I asked for in return.”

“I will.”

They said goodnight. Sue ended the call and let the phone drop onto the mattress beside her.

For a long moment she just sat there in the dark, heart beating too fast.

Then she stood up and walked into the bathroom.

The light was harsh when she flicked it on. She opened the bottom drawer under the sink — the one Malc never touched — and pulled out the small cardboard box she kept hidden at the back. She didn’t need to count them. She already knew how many were in there.

This one made ten.

She tore open the foil packet with steady fingers, even though her chest felt tight. Peeled off the cap. Positioned herself over the toilet and held the test between her legs like she’d done so many times before.

She waited.

Two minutes.

Then she set the test on the edge of the sink and stared at it.

One line.

Negative.

Again.

Sue let out a slow, shaky breath and placed the test on the counter next to the others. They were lined up like little white soldiers. Ten negative tests in the last four months. Some of them she’d hidden immediately. Some she’d left out for a few hours, like she was punishing herself.

She and Malc had been trying since before Christmas. At first it had been exciting — lots of sex, lots of laughing, him tracking her cycle on his phone like it was a mission. But after the sixth month the laughter had started to fade. Now they barely talked about it. He still fucked her, but it felt different. Like he was doing his duty. Like he was starting to wonder if the problem was him… or her.

Sue picked up the newest test and placed it carefully at the end of the row.

She didn’t cry. She’d already done that after the eighth one.

Instead she just stood there in her underwear and old T-shirt, staring at the line of white plastic sticks that all told her the same thing: not yet. Maybe not ever.

Her phone lit up on the bed behind her. A text from Ryan.

Ryan: Thank you. Seriously. I don’t know what I’m doing with any of this.

Sue looked at the message for a long time.

Then she typed back.

Sue: We’ll figure it out. Get some sleep.

She didn’t add the rest of what she was thinking.

That helping him chase pregnant women while she couldn’t even get pregnant herself felt like the most fucked-up form of self-harm she could think of.

That listening to him talk about Lisa’s belly last night had made her wetter than Malc had managed in weeks.

That part of her already wanted to hear every detail when Ryan finally fucked someone else who was carrying.

She turned off the bathroom light, left the tests where they were, and walked back into the bedroom.

Malc would be home in a couple of hours.

She climbed into bed, pulled the covers up, and stared at the ceiling until her phone buzzed again.

Another text from Ryan.

Ryan: Can I ask you something before I try to sleep?

Sue stared at the screen.

Then she typed:

Sue: Go ahead.

The three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

Ryan: When we practice tomorrow… can we start with you pretending to be pregnant?

Sue’s breath caught.

She read the message twice.

Then she rolled onto her side, pressed her thighs together, and typed the only answer she could give.

Sue: Yes.