Hold me in your arms

The morning light filtered through the sheer curtains of their Munich apartment, casting long, pale shadows across the duvet. Nini sat on the edge of the mattress, her long, curly brown hair falling in a chaotic cascade over her shoulders. She felt small, even smaller than usual, as she pressed her palm against her stomach. There was a familiar, rolling sensation in her gut—a wave of nausea that had become her constant companion over the last week.

She glanced at the calendar on her bedside table. Her period was ten days late. In the past few months, she and Nathaniel had been careless. The heat of the moment often won over the practicality of protection, and while it had felt like a thrilling secret at the time, the reality was now crashing down on her like a wave from the Isar.

Nathaniel Brown was still asleep, his large frame taking up more than half the bed. Even in sleep, he looked composed, his breathing deep and rhythmic. He was the anchor of the Bayern Munich defense, a man known for his unflappable nature on the pitch. Off the pitch, he was no different.

Nini reached out, her small hand trembling slightly as she shook his shoulder. "Nathaniel? Are you awake?"

He groaned softly, blinking his eyes open. When he saw her face, his expression immediately softened. He reached out, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "Morning, beautiful. You okay? You look pale."

"I... I think I might be pregnant," she whispered, the words feeling heavy and terrifying as they left her lips. "My period is late, and the nausea isn't going away. I'm scared, Nate."

She expected shock. She expected him to sit bolt upright, his mind racing through the implications for his career, their young lives, and the sudden shift in their reality. Instead, Nathaniel simply pulled her closer, tucking her head under his chin.

"Okay," he said, his voice a low rumble. "We’ll figure it out. If you are, we’ll handle it. There’s nothing to be afraid of."

"How can you be so calm?" she asked, pulling back to look at him. "Our lives would change forever. Everything would be different."

"Change isn't always bad, Nini," he replied with a small, enigmatic smile. "Go to the doctor today. Get the tests done so you can stop worrying. I have training, but call me the second you know anything."

Nini spent the rest of the morning in a blur of anxiety. The waiting room at the clinic felt sterile and cold. Every time a nurse walked past, her heart hammered against her ribs. She thought about her petite frame and wondered if she was even ready to carry a child. She thought about Nathaniel’s jersey hanging in the Allianz Arena and how a baby would fit into that high-octane world.

By the time she reached the doctor’s office, she was nearly vibrating with nerves.

"Well, Nini," the doctor said, looking over the blood work results an hour later. "I have the results of your HCG test. You aren't pregnant."

Nini felt a massive, complicated rush of relief. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her chest, allowing her to breathe for the first time in days. "I'm not?"

"No. However, your blood work shows a significant deficiency in several key vitamins—mostly B12 and Iron. That explains the nausea and the disruption to your cycle. Stress can also play a big part. I’m going to prescribe some supplements and I want you to focus on your nutrition."

Nini walked out of the clinic feeling light. She stopped at a café to grab a pastry, finally feeling like she could eat without the threat of it coming back up. She couldn't wait to tell Nathaniel. She knew he had been calm, but surely he would be as relieved as she was. They were young; they had so much time.

When she got home, the sun was beginning to set, painting the Munich skyline in hues of orange and violet. Nathaniel was already back from Sabener Strasse, sitting on the sofa with a glass of water, watching highlights from the previous night’s match.

"Hey," he said, standing up as she entered. He searched her face intensely. "How did it go?"

Nini ran into his arms, squeezing him tight. "I’m not pregnant! It was just a vitamin deficiency. The doctor said I need more iron and B12, and the stress was just messing with my body. Isn't that great news?"

She pulled back, expecting to see the same joyous relief mirrored in his eyes. But Nathaniel’s expression was unreadable. He didn't break into a wide grin. He didn't spin her around. He just nodded slowly, a shadow of something passing over his features.

"Oh," he said softly. "That’s... that’s good. I’m glad you’re okay, Nini. The vitamins are important."

Nini frowned, her excitement faltering. "Nate? You don't sound happy. I thought you’d be thrilled that we don't have to worry about diapers and midnight feedings yet."

He sat back down on the sofa, rubbing the back of his neck. "I am happy that you’re healthy. Of course I am." He paused, looking down at his hands. "I guess... when we talked about it this morning, I started thinking. And the idea didn't seem so bad. I kind of liked the thought of a little you running around the house."

Nini’s heart melted. She realized then that his calmness hadn't been indifference; it had been acceptance. He had already opened a door in his heart for a child that didn't exist yet.

She walked over and climbed onto his lap, straddling his legs. She framed his face with her hands, looking into his dark, soulful eyes. "You really wanted it, didn't you?"

"I didn't know I did until you said it might be happening," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I saw a future for a second there. It looked pretty good."

Nini leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead, then his cheeks, and finally his lips. "We’re going to have that, Nate. I promise. I want that too, just... maybe when I’m not so terrified. I want to be able to give that baby everything."

"I know," he said, his arms winding around her waist, holding her securely.

"Can you imagine it?" she asked, a playful smile finally tugging at her lips. "A mini version of you? He’d probably be born with a football at his feet and that same serious face you make when you're defending a corner kick."

Nathaniel laughed, the sound deep and warm against her chest. "And she’d have your curls. A tiny, beautiful girl with your stubbornness and your laugh. She’d have me wrapped around her finger within five minutes."

"Only five?" Nini teased. "I give it thirty seconds."

They sat there for a long time, weaving stories of a future that felt much closer than it had that morning. They talked about names that sounded good in both German and English, about teaching a child to ice skate on the canals in the winter, and about the tiny Bayern kits they would inevitably have to buy. The fear that had gripped Nini all week was replaced by a sweet, lingering anticipation.

Eventually, the exhaustion of the day caught up with her. The stress of the "scare" and the relief of the news left her limbs feeling heavy.

"Let's go to sleep," Nathaniel murmured against her hair.

They moved to the bedroom, the apartment quiet and peaceful. As they climbed into bed, the cool sheets felt like a sanctuary. Nini curled her back against Nathaniel’s chest, fitting perfectly into the curve of his body. He was her protector, her rock, the man who made the idea of forever seem not just possible, but necessary.

Nathaniel reached out, pulling the duvet over them both. As he settled into the pillows, his arm draped instinctively over her side. His large, warm hand came to rest flat against her stomach—the very place they had spent the day wondering about.

He was already asleep within minutes, his breathing evening out into that steady rhythm Nini loved so much. He didn't notice where his hand had landed. He didn't notice the way he protectively cupped her tummy, as if guarding a promise they had made to each other in the dark.

Nini placed her hand over his, squeezing his fingers gently. She closed her eyes, a small smile on her lips, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her back. They weren't parents yet, but in the quiet of the Munich night, it felt like they were already well on their way.