I can’t wait another second. I need to know the results. Lunging for my phone, I open my emails and click once, twice. I scan the document and when I see it there in clear bold print, I moan.

“Jesus, Trish, you’re scaring me now.” Scott puts a hand on my shoulder. “What’s going on?”

I can’t believe it. I knew there was a chance. Of course there was. But I was convinced… I let myself think… I look at Scott and say it out loud so I have to accept the truth.

“Elliot is the father.”

Scott looks back, his expression neutral. “I have no idea who Elliot is, but I’m picking you were rooting for the other guy.”

I nod, blinking back tears.

“Sorry it’s not the news you wanted,” he says quietly.

I close my eyes and there’s an image of Elliot’s angry face telling me he wants nothing to do with me or the baby. Then Pete flashes into my head: smiling broadly, his hand on my tummy as the baby gives him a nudge.

“I’ll be fine,” I say, my voice and body on autopilot. “It’s not like I was expecting the father to be involved. I was fully prepared to do this on my own.”

“Just because the biological father might not be on the scene, doesn’t mean you have to be on your own, Trish.”

I open my eyes and tilt my head to look up at him. “Sorry?”

He leans towards me, his eyes locked on mine, then he stops, glances away and stands bolt upright.

“You have friends and family to help out,” he says gruffly.

For one wild and crazy moment, I thought Scott was about to get down on his knee and propose. These pregnancy hormones are seriously making me soft.

“Can I call someone for you?” Scott asks.

I stare at my stomach and acknowledge for the first time since I fell pregnant that this baby isn’t all mine. It’s fifty per cent someone else – fifty per cent Elliot, to be exact.

“I think I need a bit of time on my own to get used to the idea first.”

Scott clears his throat. “I’ll go.”

“Thanks.”

When Scott reaches the door, he pauses and turns back.

“Trish, we haven’t known each other long, but I know you’re gutsy and caring and… well, you’ll be a great mum.”

Before I can formulate a reply, he’s gone.

My house is eerily quiet. I can’t hear a thing apart from a faint buzz in my ears. It’s like I’ve hit a giant pause button and if I move so much as a muscle, the button will be released.