He needed to get out. Out side, out of the whole awkward moment of where he had no idea what to say and everything he said kept coming out wrong. But he knew, knew, that would be wrong. He couldn't just go running out the door because she'd said she was pregnant. What sort of message would that send? But breathing wasn't coming easily, and he needed to figure out how to do that again. He didn't know how to be a father. He'd never had one, or rather, he'd had one that no child ever should have. He was a crap role model. He knew that, too. This...was wrong on so many levels.

He couldn't do this.

But he loved her, and so he had to do this, and he had to...figure out how to breathe. It wasn't working very well.