A/N: Friendly reminder that this story is about learning to question your snap judgments. Please stop calling me an idiot in my comments until you finish reading the story. Or, you know, never. 

Thanks!

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Production for the pilot started four weeks ago, and it's been busy ever since. Every day was full of meetings, travel between sets, filming, editing -- all of it time-consuming. The time apart was stressing both of us, so we made a schedule. I switched shifts, so when I was at work, he was editing and in meetings, and when he was shooting, I was able to be there on set like one of the crew. It was a lot, it kept us busy, but we were working towards something together -- a perfect scenario for a couple of workaholics like us.

Sticking to my schedule left me no time to worry about anything that wasn't right in front of my face. No mom, no Vick and Jerry, no ten-year and milestones I set for myself, no upcoming vacations with possible proposals. It was one fully scheduled day at a time and nothing else. Well ... besides one thing.

I had been feeling sick for the past month. Really sick. Part of it was stress, but I knew the rest was something else.

I felt nauseous all day and still hadn't started my period, so I decided to take a test. The result didn't surprise me at all.

"Were you right?" Maggie asks me when I come out of the stall.

"Yeah," I tell her. I toss the test into the trash and start to wash my hands in the sink. I know my body. I had been pregnant before.

"So what are you going to do now?"

I look at my reflection, barely recognizing the face that stares back at me. A part of me knew, but I had let the stress of anticipation and mom's guilt-inducing reminders get to me anyway. I shrug rather than responding with words and dry my hands.

"Do you want me to make you an appointment?"

I sigh. "Yeah. Soon as possible is probably best, right?"

"If that's what you want, yes," she says. "I can go with you if you want someone to hold your hand."

I smile at her. She's a good friend. "You can come if you want, but I'll be okay."

"You sure?" I nod. "Okay." She leans off the counter, her arms still crossed. "You should still tell him."

"Tell him what? He's so busy with everything right now, he doesn't need the distraction."

"Michael loves you, Penny. He'll want to know, busy or not."

I let out a breath slowly to calm my nerves. Nothing she says will convince me to utter a word about this until he is done with production. This can wait.

Maggie purses her red lips as she reads the thoughts on my face. She steps forward and pulls me into her arms, hugging me tight. I lean my chin onto her shoulder and breathe a little easier. After a moment, she lets me go and gives me an encouraging smile as she leaves through the door.

As I stand alone in the hospital bathroom, every inch of my skin prickles with a confusing mix of relief and disappointment. I have the answer I was waiting for, but now I'm not sure if it was the one I wanted or not. Did I want to have a baby with Mickey? Did I want a baby at all?

♡♡♡

After work, I go back to the apartment for a five-minute break before I have to Uber to the set. Just enough time to do some serious stress eating. All I want is an entire bottle of wine and something with carbs. Good thing we never keep alcohol in the house. I raid the refrigerator regardless.

I feel dismayed when I find nothing but raw proteins and things that grown on trees, so I close the door with a huff. Behind me, I hear vibrations against the counter. When I turn towards the noise, I find that it's coming from Mickey's phone.

He must have left it there after making his morning smoothie. This wasn't the first time this has happened this month. Or this week, actually. His mind was always somewhere else during the buzz of production. But I have the direct numbers for at least three people he was with, and our calendars were synced, so I always know where he is. It's like we were a real couple with good communication or something. Weird.

I let it be and open the cabinet below to find my hidden stash of cookies. Yes! Come to Mama, you delicious little bitches! I don't remember the last time I was this excited about vegan cookies. It's probably because I've been on Mickey's diet for a month. Doing everything together means we eat everything together too. It fucking sucks. The man actually expects me to survive without carbs or cheese for two months without spiraling into insanity. He's lucky he's amazing in bed.

I violently tear the stupid packaging when I hear the phone vibrating again. "Dammit!"

I reluctantly set down the cookies and go to answer it, but end up missing the call. The screen stays lit afterwards. It's full of a slew of missed calls, texts, and emails. The last being from "Sis".

I still. That's a first.

I stare at it, even when it dims again. When was the last time Mickey talked to his sister? When was the last time he talked to anyone from his family?

We have each other's passcodes, but I never felt the need to use his. The amount of trust I have with him is probably more than most couples can understand. Not to say I hadn't gotten curious, but I didn't have a desire to look until now.

I unlock his phone and go through his notifications, swiping away emails I don't care about and calendar notifications to get to the two missed calls from "Sis". It still seems out of place, but plenty of people our age call twice rather than leaving a message. But something is still bothering me. My skin crawls with a feeling I can't place.

I look at his text messages, and see his priorities. The M's on top, followed by me, Ailene, Jackson, and sure enough, "Mom". I read the recent messages and my chest starts to ache.

Mom: I told your dad 

I want a divorce.

Mickey: Good. It's 

about damn time.

Mom: I know you still 

hate him. I hate him 

for what he did to you 

too. But he's still your 

dad.

Mickey: Sure.

Another call comes through from a Boston number and I answer it immediately.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hi. Is Michael there?" a woman asks. She has a very noticeable northeastern accent.

"No, I'm sorry, he's not here right now. Is there something you want me to tell him?"

"Who is this?"

"Penelope. I'm Michael's girlfriend."

She laughs to herself, but she doesn't sound happy. "So he has a girlfriend finally? Well then hi, I'm his sister."

I start to feel nervous for some reason. "Hi."

"Listen, our ma is in the hospital. There was a bad accident. They're sayin' she needs surgery, and ... sayin' it would be good for family to be here."

My heart drops to the floor. I brace myself against the counter to steady myself.

"Could you tell him he should come see her? As soon as possible."

"Y-yes, yes of course," I say shakily. "Can you give me the name or address of the hospital?"

"It's the only one in Southie. Dickey knows where it is."

Southie? "Okay. I'll go tell him right now. We'll be there as soon as possible."

"Great. Thanks," she says sadly, and hangs up. I have to remind myself to breathe.

♡♡♡

I packed a bag as quickly as possible, making sure to grab everything Mickey would need to keep in touch while being away for a few days, then look up flights in the Uber. When we get to the house, I thank the driver and run inside. Searching through the crowd of people inside, I can't find him.

Fuck, is he shooting today? I pull out my phone, and with shaking hands, go to my schedule. He is. I was supposed to be here half an hour ago. Bad timing. Such fucking bad timing.

I walk through the house to where people are gathered, and I see him. He's on the set under all the lights, Ailene laughing with him as she brushes powder onto his gorgeous face. "Let's take it again from the top," Matty calls out. People clear and the room gets quiet.

In the near silence, I can hear the blood rushing through my ears. My heart feels like it is going to beat out of my chest. There's no way I can interrupt this. I'll have to wait.

"Hey, Penny." I look over and find Miranda. When she looks at my face, her expression becomes worried. "What's wrong?"

Everything. "When is Mickey supposed to be done today?"

She looks at the tablet in her hands. "It's just this one scene. He's almost done. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but I have to take him. It's a family emergency."

Her eyes widen slightly. "Fuck. Okay." She takes my hand and starts to pull me towards the set, but I stop her.

"Wait! Just ... wait."

I watch him on set looking so natural and in his element, saying his lines, hitting his marks. The well-known actress they cast as lead felt so bad about their sex scene, she came to me crying, asking if I would be able to forgive him. That made Mickey and me laugh. Right now, he was calm, he was happy. But the minute I tell him, all that changes.

I've been here before, getting the same news. I know the emotional ruin that comes with it ... I don't want him to feel that just yet.

"Let him finish this," I tell Miranda.

We stand together and watch. I distract myself from the slow passage of time, focusing on the words, the mannerisms, their facial expressions, wiping my tears away silently with my sleeve. When it ends, Miranda takes me by the arm and leads me through the crew of people.

Mickey leans over Matty's shoulder as they look at the playback on one of the cameras when we approach. Matty sees us first. Mickey looks over and smiles, but it falls quickly when he sees my face. He walks over to me and I fight the urge to cry, knowing what I have to tell him.

He brushes his hands over my hair as he looks down at me worriedly. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"Mickey," I start to tell him, trying my best to stay calm. "It's your mom."

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A/N: I know, I know. It's going to be okay. 

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