Is there a character or characters that even when you were really young you really wanted to tickle or be tickled by? I was watching a dvd with some friends and an ad came up and made me forget just how much I wanted to tickle this little guy when I was little-
ᥫ᭡ his list was getting too long, I had to make him his own page
Bad Idea Right? | @g0ldendesiree
what's the worst thing that could happen when you start seeing your brothers best friend?
Little Black Dress | @/g0ldendesiree
beau knows the rules, but that doesn’t stop him when someone else tries hitting on you.
I Know Places | @/g0ldendesiree
one thing is for sure, briar u isn't a place that stays calm and quiet for long
So Easy | @/g0ldendesiree
after drunken shakespeare you can't get enough of your boyfriend, but what happens when your newfound touchiness comes with the arrival of a visitor?
You, Me, and Her | @andy-15-07
You Were Babies | @/andy-15-07
Look at the Camera | @/andy-15-07
Dean and the Art of Babysitting | @/andy-15-07
You Still Sleep With It? | @/andy-15-07
thats not very heroic | @deansbrat
LOML [chapter 1] | @disco-occasionally-wp
NEXT TO YOU | @melwnst
After Beau’s hard day at practice, he only wants two things. A hot shower and your arms to crawl right into. Thankfully, you’re not one to complain when he gets clingy.
guardian angel | @pucksandpower
(implied spoilers for The Score): you stop on a dark highway for a stranger you have never met. He wakes up days later not knowing your name. What follows is a love story that starts with blood-stained scrubs, a neck brace, and the single worst pickup line ever delivered in an ICU. Aka … the fix-it fic where Beau lives
Cape Cod winter getaway | @lunsilun
Imagine | @/lunsilun
Weekly dinner with friends, comes with some exciting news after hiding it for weeks.
Off the Record, part 2, part 3 | @/lunsilun
When a journalism assignment sends her to interview Briar’s star quarterback, she expects a good grade and nothing more. Beau Maxwell has other problems. He just can’t stop thinking about her.
Beau Maxwell x Shy female Reader | @/lunsilun
Beau catches a guy making you uncomfortable at a party and immediately steps in when he realizes you’ve been trying to handle it alone.
Secrets out, Part 2 | @/lunsilun
when a guy kisses you at a party Dean gets mad and beats him up, but what happens when he finds out his sister and best friend are dating behind his back
My Greatest Win | @/lunsilun
you and Beau cherish your pregnancy days before welcoming your baby girl in a heartfelt birth.
SLEEP HERE TONIGHT! | @worldimaginedreaming
After another sleepless night during finals week, Beau lets you stay in his dorm “just this once” but sharing a bed with your best friend starts feeling a little too real.
Off limits, part 2 | @garrettgrahamswhore
dean has one rule for his friends: stay away from his sister. beau maxwell knows that, but he has a hard time remembering it whenever you’re around.
Daisies | @great33st
Being Dean Di Laurentis’s sister at Briar University comes with one golden rule: don’t date athletes. And especially not Beau Maxwell, the irresistible captain of the football team. Yet, what started as a game of stolen glances turned into a secret romance spanning months. For Beau, those stolen early-morning hours with her mean everything—bound by the sole promise that he will always be there at the end of the day.
Sneaking Around | @kinzis-writing
There was no logical explanation as to why she wanted to hide her relationship from her roommates… except for the fact that she was afraid they wouldn’t understand why she fell for him. Beau didn’t mind sneaking around though, as long as he got to be with her.
SHE’S LOST CONTROL | @lovelytsunoda
In which a lonely college senior, plagued with the looming threat of graduation, meets a boy who shows her what it feels like to be chosen
When someone asks me who’s my favourite batman… | @/lovelytsunoda
The world suddenly feels too big without Beau Maxwell in it. Everywhere she looks, she sees the man that she was supposed to marry.
HEAD OVER FEET | @/lovelytsunoda
For a girls first date, there’s no one she would have rather gone out with than Beau Maxwell.
having a “secret” relationship with beau maxwell | @jalenspuckbunny
you and beau maxwell have a silent mutual agreement to keep your relationship secret, but turns out, you both suck at keeping anything a secret according to allie and hannah at least.
goose and glinda | @mnkeycveringisemoji
you're dean's twin sister, you don't do parties, but you do do Beau Maxwell, secretly, of course.
goose and maverick (and i guess glinda is there too) | @/mnkeycveringisemoji
your twin brother finds out that you and beau are dating. he doesn't take it lightly. it takes a week and a mature(ish) conversation to fix it.
i think you’re what’s wrong with me | @/mnkeycveringisemoji
you're tired of being second place in beau's life. so, you end it. but you realize that maybe you never wanted to leave your place in his life.
operation get back together | @/mnkeycveringisemoji
dean and allie have been watching from the sidelines as you and beau deal with this breakup. before long, they make a plan to get the two of you back together. will it work?
Insecure | @chillinini
your insecurities are screaming at you to forget him, meanwhile beau has other plans.
meet cute; failed adition, part 2 | @/chillinini
you hated the guy. he wanted to prove you wrong.
Stud | @/chillinini
5 stages | @/chillinini
the loss of beau, and the aftermath.
beau maxwell x reader, later jake connelly x reader
a summer secret | @sunnydilaurentis
in which dean notices the quiet, suspicious intimacy growing between beau and his sister.
The King of Dramatics | @logansleopard
Long day | @iceyngi
The Beginnings | @/iceyngi
Your boyfriend of a couple of months introduced you to everyone in his life, except for his best friend, you weren’t sure why until you saw them together and that leads you to a fun proposal.
“That’s my girlfriend. Please clap.” | @book-lish
The Accident | @/book-lish
baby daddy Beau… | @/book-lish
deans sister and secretly dating beau | @seventiesaces
he leaves for ten minutes | @junezsq
a night out takes an uncomfortable turn when beau is away for a moment, leaving dean to step in and protect his best friend’s girlfriend
coach beau | @/junezsq
beau finds out you don’t understand a single thing about football and decides it’s his duty to teach you
“i couldn’t see you” | @/junezsq
beau always gets up when knocked down on the field. always. except for today … and you don’t know what to do
don’t lose them | @/junezsq
months after a drunk photobooth kiss, dean finds the pictures tucked neatly inside beau’s wallet, forcing you to finally confront what that night meant
little things | @/junezsq
you and beau fall deeper in love through all the quiet, ordinary ways you’ve learned to know and care for each other
Rules | @/junezsq
known among the hockey team for never giving anyone a third chance, you unexpectedly find yourself drawn to the football player
Aim, Set, Match: a Maxwell Masterclass in Finding You | @maverist
beau maxwell, star quarterback and golden boy concusses woman with football, sending her to the hospital. maybe his aim isn't so perfect after all. or maybe it's exactly what it needed to be.
white lace | @georgiastars13
beau sees you at a party and instantly gets possessive.
gimme a chance | @raven-dor
three times beau maxwell proves to you that he is boyfriend material, and the one time you decide to let yourself fall for his charms
drabble #4 | @/raven-dor
you hide from beau to see how long it takes for him to notice you're gone
drabble #5 | @/raven-dor
the one where you actually make a tiktok without torturing beau
First Time | @daydreamfiles
Beau wants your first time to feel special, even if that means fresh sheets, your favorite candle, and a suspiciously well-planned Spotify playlist.
Ruin the Friendship? | @ellahoneymoon
Not admiting your feelings for each other is hard. Trying not to be so obvious is harder. And apparently, useless.
No One Is the Same | @mavari44
After an awkward night at Malone's, Beau comes back to apologize for one of his teammates’ behavior. What starts as a simple conversation ends up becoming the beginning of something neither of them saw coming.
Soft Launch | @idegaff
Soft launch photos that you posted and the stories behind them.
hinting to you | @itsreallydamngiving
TikTok Trends | @logginginra
your boyfriend not having tiktok might be the best part of your relationship
The SWAT Edit | @sluvaffair
Your boyfriend finds your folder full of TikTok edits of Deacon Kay.
You sat on the couch, sprawled out, trying to rest. Of course your eyes seemed to be totally fixed on Beau. Beau and your two week old daughter. You smile, watching him sway gently with your daughter tucked against his chest.
“College Beau was hot,” you admit. “Boyfriend Beau was even better.” You say thinking fondly on your dating days as you get off the couch, crossing over to him.
He arches a brow. “And husband Beau?” You step closer, sliding your hands over his waist carefully not to disturb your sleeping baby.
“Pretty great.” You grin.
“Pretty great?” he repeats, offended. You grin up at him before glancing at the baby.
“But Daddy Beau?” You bite your lip, letting your eyes drag slowly over him. “Daddy Beau is definitely my favorite.”
His mouth curves into a smug smile and he laughs a little.
“Yeah?” He asks.
“Yeah.” You lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth. “It’s honestly a little rude how sexy you look holding our baby.”
Beau glances down at your daughter, then back at you.
“You hear that, Bug? Mommy thinks Daddy’s hot.” He whispers.
“She does not need to hear that.” You tease.
“She deserves to know her dad’s still got it. Besides it’s kinda how she got here.” He says winking at you.
“You’re unbearable.” You laugh.
“And still you married me,” he reminds you, stealing a proper kiss. You grin at him.
“Of course, I had to make sure my babies came out cute.” You tease. Beau laughs.
“I knew you just married me for my good looks and athletic genes.” He retorts. You giggle.
“Oh shut it.” You say, kissing his lips softly. He smiles against your lips, his hair messy, eyes sleepy. Yet he’s never looked more handsome to you.
WHEN SOMEONE ASKS ME WHO’S MY FAVOURITE BATMAN, I’LL THINK OF YOU AND SAY CHRISTIAN BALE | Beau Maxwell
Summary: The world suddenly feels too big without Beau Maxwell in it. Everywhere she looks, she sees the man that she was supposed to marry.
Pairing: Beau Maxwell x Fiancée!Reader (I’m picturing something along the lines of Van and Cheyenne in Reba but without the baby born on prom lmao)
Warnings: I made myself cry while I was writing this, so do with that what you will. Heavy on the grieving, mentions of weed usage.
I wonder if you kept that pilgrim ashtray, if it’s still propped up on your bar cart
The townhouse felt too quiet. The football team’s accommodations weren’t stellar by any means, but the pair had done quite well with the space they had been given.
And now that small house felt massive. The door to their bedroom had been closed since the day of the accident, and she couldn’t bring herself to throw out his toothbrush.
The heavy glass ashtray still rested in Beau’s bar cart, next to a half full bottle of Smirnoff that would never be finished. The last time they had used it was two nights before his last big game, curled up on the expensive patio furniture set his parents had sent down from the Hamptons.
“Does coach know that you get stoned when you plan game strategy?” Beau had laughed, running his thumb along her calf. Her legs were tossed over his lap, a joint in one hand and a hardcover notebook in her lap.
“This is THC-free, unlike that shit you and Dean smoke. There’s nothing here that’s going to impair me in any way. It’s straight CBD, on prescription.” She corrected, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “And he doesn’t care, as long as we win.”
“Can I see your notebook of secrets?” Beau asked, lighting up his own joint. “Come on, baby. Let me in to that beautiful mind of yours.”
When she had first started working for the Briar football team, it had been admin work, which she had been fine with. It kept her close to Beau Maxwell, her high school sweetheart. Of course, all that time spent around a football pitch had rubbed off. She had boldly corrected the coach during a game one night, and when the players won on a strategy that she had suggested, she was promoted from administration to strategy the very next day.
She had laughed as Beau pulled her closer, trying to steal a glance at the notebook sprawled across her lap. “Being engaged to a member of the strategy team doesn’t give you special privileges, Maxwell. You’ll find out when the rest of the team does.”
When he kissed her that night, he tasted like weed and honey garlic barbecue sauce, a remnant from the boneless wings they had shared for dinner.
He pulled her on to his lap with his big strong arms, gazing up at her with wonder. “I can’t wait to call you my wife.”
Now, when she looked at that ashtray, she felt like she was going to vomit. That was the same way she felt when she went into their empty garage, the spare keys for Beau’s Land Rover hanging from the unfinished drywall. What were you even supposed to do with the spare keys for a car that was totalled with your fiancée in the front seat?
With a guttural cry, she flung the ashtray at the wall. She expected it to shatter, breaking into pieces the way that her heart had, but it didn’t. Instead, it fell to the floor with a thump, taking a chunk of drywall with it.
When she looked over at the hole in the wall, she realized glumly that the wall mirrored the way that her soul felt without Beau Maxwell.
could make a grand off of that chain you bought me, but goddamn it’s not for sale
She had told Beau that she didn’t want an expensive ring. While Beau had come from money, she was the eldest child of a teacher and a steel worker. Her childhood had been fantastic, don’t get her wrong, but it made her uncomfortable with large displays of wealth. Even when Beau presented her with jewelry or trips, she was never quite sure how to react at what she knew must have been a large price tag.
The simple gold band had a small diamond in the center, and felt light on her finger. Now, it burned her skin with a reminder of something she could no longer have.
She hadn’t been wearing it when the police knocked on her door. She had just gotten out of the shower, back from a night out with some of her friends. She was wearing fuzzy slippers and a bathrobe when she answered the door, her heart stopping when she saw the cruiser parked in her driveway.
“Ma’am, are you Beau Maxwell’s fiancée?”
“Yes.” Her voice had been shaky. “What’s happened?”
“I’m afraid there’s been an accident. May we come in?”
That was the precise moment when her world stopped turning. When six and a half years of a life she thought she was building for the long haul shattered.
She hadn’t been able to put the ring back on after that, but couldn’t stand to be without it either. Now, it was threaded through one of Beau’s gold chain necklaces, resting over her heart underneath her Briar football sweater as she prepared herself to enter the empty locker room and clean out his things.
“You don’t have to do this alone.”
Joanna Maxwell stood behind her, looking only marginally better, in the sense that the great Joanna Maxwell rarely ever looked less that perfect, even in sweatpants.
“I don’t know what to do, Joanna.” Her voice cracked as she approached her sister-in-law. “We were going to start looking at wedding venues next week. I can’t even fathom calling to cancel and having to explain it.”
“Allie and I will handle that for you.” Joanna insisted, pulling her in for a hug. “He loved you so much. Sometimes it felt like all he did was talk about how brilliant you were and how he couldn’t wait to start a life with you.”
“I miss him so fucking much.” She sobbed, feeling like her heart had been ripped right open again.
As long as I live I’ll remember the names of your favourite beers and your video games. That look on your face when you turned twenty-six, and your dad got too stoned, yeah that one’s gonna stick
It was her fifth or sixth day of self pity and defeat (or maybe even longer- her sense of time had blurred since she had been taken to Hastings Memorial to identify Beau’s body) when Dean came knocking. He let himself in with the spare key Beau had given him, chest tight when he took in the state of the small living room.
YN was sprawled across the couch, buried under Beau’s Yankees blanket, head barely peeking out over the top. A chunk of wall was missing, an ashtray lying on the floor beneath the gaping hole. She was staring at her phone, emptily scrolling through pictures of her and Beau at their high school graduation.
“YN,” Dean’s voice was soft. “He wouldn’t want this.”
“He can’t want anything any more. He’s dead, Dean.” She cried. “Just like he’ll never sing show tunes while making breakfast, or kiss me in the middle of the football pitch after a big win.”
Dean sat down in the leather recliner next to the couch, his eyes taking in the mess scattered around the glass coffee table. Where there had once been magazines with wedding dresses circled, there were now brochures for funeral homes and 4 by 6 prints of YN and Beaus life together. Two mugs half filled with cold coffee sat on the table, one leaving a ring of condensation, the other looked like it had been there for days.
“Remember his birthday in Cape Cod, the year he turned twenty? When I accidentally fed his dad pot brownies?”
YN laughed, sitting up shakily in the couch. “Yeah. Fuck, I’d almost forgotten. Mr. Maxwell got up on the patio table singing All Summer Long. I’m shocked the table didn’t buckle under his weight.”
Dean laughed with her. “And that look on Beau and Joanna’s faces. I’ll never fucking forget it.”
She turned off her phone, placing it face down on the table. “Want a beer? It’s all Miller Lite. He loved that stuff, but I’ll never touch it.”
“Sure.” Dean nodded. “I’ll crack a six pack open in his honour around the fire tonight. The hockey house is hosting a vigil. You should come.”
She really didn’t want to. Didn’t want to submerge herself in everyone else’s grief as well as her own. Didn’t want to hear stories about Beau that would just rip her in two again.
But staying trapped inside a house of memories didn’t sound fantastic either.
“I have to call the condo corporation. I need to see if they can get someone to fix the hole I made.”
“That’s a weak excuse and you know it. You can’t shut yourself away forever. You aren’t the only one who’s hurting, YN.”
“We talked about kids. About the perfect house with a picket fence and dock in the back. Am I just supposed to forget about the life we were planning?”
I’ll never forget how I bloomed for your gaze, or your wall of guitars and your video games
After Dean had left, holding her to her promise to show up at the vigil with all the Miller Lite in her fridge, she found herself standing in front of the closed door to the master bedroom, her hand hovering over the doorknob like she was scared that it would burn her.
She took a deep breath, slowly turning it, giving herself plenty of time to change her mind as she opened the door.
The room was still, dust lingering in the air. No light seeped in, the blackout curtains pulled firmly closed. She forced herself to open them, letting the sun hit corners of the room that it hadn’t seen in a while.
The closet still smelled like him. Traces of his cologne were on all his shirts and sweaters. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes as she buried her nose in one of his resort shirts, soaking in the smell.
There was a stack of CD’s on his nightstand, each one of them an obscure musical soundtrack that he had picked up at a yard sale or traded his sister for. She picked up the one at the top, laughing when she saw what album it was.
Bat Out Of Hell. He had always promised he’d take her to see it, to hear the songs of Meat Loaf performed live to the background of a dystopian Peter Pan story.
The half-full bottle of his Ferrari cologne sat on a mirrored dish in their dresser, the bottle sitting pretty next to her Victoria’s Secret perfume. Everything in the room brought back emperors of the good times that she and Beau had shared, right down to the drawer of sex toys hidden at the bottom of his night stand.
She sink down on his side of the bed, smiling through the tears as she picked up the picture frame on his side of the bed.
It was their first trip together, when they were barely nineteen. The summer before they both came to Briar. They had gone to a cottage in Michigan. Beau had taken this picture on the paddle boat at sunset, a clumsy selfie where you could barely see their faces, but could tell how besotted he was with her.
“Beau, you big fucking idiot. What am I going to do without you?”
Author's Note: Prepare the tissues... For more of my writing, check out my Masterlist: here.
Trigger Warnings: Pregnancy, Miscarriage
I was dating Beau, the quarterback of Briar’s football team. Everyone knew him as the confident one — the guy who could walk into any room and own it. The guy who always had a plan.
But I didn’t have a plan.
Not for this.
I hadn’t been feeling like myself for a few days. At first, I tried to ignore it. Stress. Finals. Lack of sleep. Anything other than the thought that kept creeping into the back of my mind.
So I bought a pregnancy test.
And then I stared at the result until my vision blurred.
Positive.
I told myself it was wrong.
It had to be wrong.
I had an IUD. I had done everything right. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
So I took another test.
Positive.
Then another.
And another.
And another.
Five tests lined up on my bathroom counter, all saying the same thing, and somehow that made it feel even less real.
I sat on the floor for what felt like hours, staring at them, trying to figure out how my entire life had just shifted without asking me first.
Beau and I were in college. We were barely figuring out who we were. We had classes, football, friends, futures we were still trying to build.
A baby was not part of that future.
Not now.
Not yet.
I called my doctor because I didn’t know what else to do. My voice shook when I explained, and they told me I needed to come in for an ultrasound and blood pregnancy test.
I went alone.
I couldn’t tell Beau yet.
I couldn’t tell my friends.
I couldn’t even say the words out loud because the second I did, it would become real.
So I sat in the waiting room by myself, surrounded by women who looked like they knew exactly what they were doing, while I felt like I had accidentally walked into someone else’s life.
The ultrasound confirmed it.
I was pregnant.
About five weeks.
Five weeks.
That was such a small amount of time, but somehow it felt like I already knew this little piece of my future.
The doctor gave me information, answered my questions, and told me what to watch for.
I walked out with a little packet of papers in my hand, some prenatal vitamins, and a thousand thoughts running through my head.
At first, I only let myself panic.
But then, slowly, I started thinking about it.
My potential due date.
What month the baby would be born.
What their first birthday would look like.
Whether they would have Beau’s eyes.
Whether they would be a boy or a girl.
Whether I would be a good mom.
Whether my life could somehow fit around this new reality.
I started searching things I never thought I would search.
How big is a baby at five weeks?
What foods should you avoid during pregnancy?
What drinks should you stop having?
What happens after finding out you’re pregnant in college?
I learned things I never expected to care about. I started thinking differently about everything I put into my body. I caught myself imagining a future I wasn’t sure I was ready for.
And then I remembered I had to tell Beau.
That was the scariest part.
Because no matter how much I was struggling, this was his too.
I sat him down and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I had rehearsed what I was going to say a hundred times, but when I looked at him, all I could get out was the truth.
“I’m pregnant.”
For a few seconds, he just stared at me.
And then he pulled me into him.
He was scared. I could see it. He didn’t pretend he wasn’t. We were both terrified.
But he didn’t run.
He didn’t blame me.
He didn’t make me feel like I was facing it alone.
He just held me and told me we would figure it out.
And for the first time since seeing those tests, I let myself believe maybe we could.
For a few days, things felt different.
Not easy.
Not normal.
But different.
There was this strange new awareness between us. Like we were carrying around a secret that only belonged to us.
Then I started spotting.
At first, I wasn’t too worried.
The doctor had told me spotting could happen. It didn’t always mean something was wrong.
So I tried to stay calm.
But it didn’t stop.
A day passed.
Then two.
Then more.
And that fear I had been trying to push away started creeping back in.
I went back to the doctor.
This time, I wasn’t excited or terrified.
I was numb.
Another blood test.
Another wait.
Another room where I sat staring at the walls, hoping someone would tell me everything was okay.
But they didn’t.
The doctor explained it gently.
My pregnancy hormone levels were dropping.
I had miscarried.
I remember hearing the words, but not understanding them.
Because how could I lose something I had only just found?
How could I grieve someone I had never met?
I hadn’t even gotten to know my baby.
I hadn’t heard a heartbeat.
I hadn’t bought anything.
I hadn’t told everyone.
But somehow, there was still a loss.
Because for those few days, I had imagined a life.
And now I had to imagine one without it.
The hardest part wasn’t the doctor’s appointment.
It wasn’t the tears.
It wasn’t the emptiness.
It was having to tell Beau.
Because a few days ago, I had sat in front of him and changed both of our lives forever.
And now I had to sit in front of him and tell him that the future we had just started imagining was gone.
I didn’t know how to say it.
I didn’t know how to take something that had already hurt me so much and put it into words that wouldn’t hurt him too.
I didn’t know how to tell the person who had promised we would figure it out that there was nothing left to figure out.
It was weird.
That was the only way I could describe it.
Because I had spent the first few days terrified of becoming a mom.
I had cried on my bathroom floor because I wasn’t ready. Because I had plans. Because Beau and I were supposed to have one more year of college before we figured out the rest of our lives.
I hadn’t wanted to be a mom.
And then somehow, I became one.
Not in the way I imagined. Not with a nursery or a heartbeat or a baby in my arms.
But I had been a mom.
For those few weeks, I had carried a little life inside me. I had changed the way I ate. I had taken vitamins every morning. I had looked up how big my baby was and wondered if they would have Beau’s smile.
I had started making space for someone who wasn’t supposed to exist in my life yet.
And then, just like that, I wasn’t a mom anymore.
I didn’t know how to grieve something I had only known for such a short time.
I didn’t know if I was allowed to be this heartbroken.
When I got home, Beau was already there.
And he didn’t know.
He didn’t know that I had sat in that doctor’s office alone.
He didn’t know that I had heard the words that changed everything.
He didn’t know that the future he was still holding onto wasn’t there anymore.
He smiled when I walked in.
Not a huge smile. Not a careless one.
A hopeful one.
And somehow that hurt worse.
“Okay, hear me out,” he said, standing up from the couch. “I’ve been thinking.”
I froze.
Because those words used to make me smile.
Beau was always thinking. Always planning. Always finding a way to make things work.
“We can do this,” he said.
My chest tightened.
“We’re seniors, right? So we only have one year left. We figure out classes. Maybe you take a lighter schedule if you need to. I can talk to Coach about adjusting things around football. My parents would help. Your parents would help. We’d make it work.”
I stared at him.
He kept going, his eyes lighting up as he talked through all the possibilities.
“We could get a place off campus. Nothing crazy, but somewhere with an extra room. And after graduation, we figure out jobs and everything else. It’s not exactly how we pictured things, but—”
His voice softened.
“—it could still be good.”
That was what broke me.
Not the doctor.
Not the blood test.
Not the empty ultrasound.
It was Beau standing in our apartment, already loving a future that no longer existed.
I started crying before I could stop myself.
Not quiet tears.
Not the kind I could hide.
The kind that ripped through me.
Beau immediately stopped talking.
“Hey,” he said, his face changing. “What’s wrong?”
And I wanted to tell him.
I wanted to say the words.
But my throat closed up.
Because saying them meant they were real.
“Beau…”
He crossed the room in seconds.
“What happened?”
I looked at him, and I saw the hope on his face disappear before I even spoke.
“I went back to the doctor.”
His hands found mine.
“And?”
I swallowed.
“They said…”
My voice broke.
“I lost the baby.”
The silence that followed was unbearable.
For a second, neither of us moved.
And then Beau’s face crumpled.
Not in anger.
Not in disappointment.
Just pain.
He pulled me into him, and I collapsed against his chest.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
The words came out over and over.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Because some part of me felt like I had failed him.
Failed the baby.
Failed this tiny future we had barely started imagining.
But Beau just held me tighter.
“Don’t apologize,” he whispered.
And that somehow made me cry harder.
Because I knew he was hurting too.
He had lost something too.
A future.
A dream.
A baby he had already started making room for.
We stood there holding each other in the middle of our apartment, grieving something neither of us had been prepared to love.
Something neither of us had been prepared to lose.
The days after were strange.
Some moments, I felt completely normal.
I would laugh at something stupid Beau said. I would get annoyed about a professor assigning too much work. I would complain about being tired.
And then I would remember.
There wasn’t a baby anymore.
There wasn’t a due date.
There wasn’t a tiny person we were going to meet.
And it felt like the world kept moving forward while mine had stopped.
I still had the prenatal vitamins sitting on my bathroom counter.
I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away.
I don’t know why.
Maybe because throwing them away felt like admitting there had never been a baby.
Maybe because, in those few weeks, there had been.
Beau never pressured me to move on.
That was the thing about him.
He didn’t try to fix it.
He couldn’t.
There was no speech that could make it hurt less. No promise that could bring back what we lost.
He just stayed.
He learned when I needed to talk and when I needed silence.
He learned that sometimes I would cry randomly because something small reminded me.
A baby announcement online.
A pregnant woman walking across campus.
A date on the calendar that made me think, that would have been around when I was due.
He never told me I should be over it.
He never acted like because it was early, it mattered less.
Because it mattered.
We both knew it did.
One night, a few weeks later, we were sitting on the couch together.
It was quiet.
The kind of quiet that used to feel uncomfortable but now felt safe.
“I really thought I was going to hate being pregnant,” I admitted.
Beau looked over at me.
I swallowed.
“I was so scared. I was angry. I kept thinking about everything I was losing.”
His hand found mine.
“But then I started thinking about it,” I continued. “And I started imagining them.”
My voice cracked.
“And I think that’s the part no one tells you. You don’t have to hold your baby to love them.”
Beau looked down at our hands.
“I miss them,” he whispered.
The honesty of it broke something open in me.
Because I had been so caught up in my own grief that I forgot he had his own.
He had gone from planning how to rearrange his life to losing the future he had just started picturing.
“I miss them too,” I said.
And for the first time, we let ourselves say it.
Not the pregnancy.
Not what happened.
Not the situation.
Them.
Because even though they were only with us for a short time, they were ours.
Eventually, life started moving again.
Classes continued.
Football continued.
People who didn’t know what happened laughed and joked around us, unaware that we were carrying something heavy.
I started healing.
Not forgetting.
Healing.
There was a difference.
I stopped blaming myself.
I stopped wondering if I should have done something differently.
I stopped asking why I had been given something just to lose it.
Some things don’t have answers.
Some losses don’t make sense.
But I learned that grief and love can exist at the same time.
I had not planned to become a mom.
I had not been ready.
But for a brief moment, I was.
And even though I wasn’t anymore, that didn’t erase what happened.
It didn’t erase the love.
It didn’t erase the dreams.
It didn’t erase the little life that had changed both of us before we ever got the chance to meet them.
And maybe someday, when the pain wasn’t so sharp, I would think about that time and remember more than just losing them.
Maybe I would remember that, for a little while, I got to love them too.
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