It's finally here! Sorry it's been so long, life post-lockdown has been a little bit crazy. I hope it's worth the wait - and apologies in advance to any Adam fans.

Thank you so much for the reviews!

The tension that she'd been feeling of late soon returned to Carla the following morning as she stared into the mirror in front her and smoothed concealer across the blemishes on her skin that her spiraling hormones had caused. She'd teamed a loose-fitting beige jumper with her faithful leggings; flattening her hand against her stomach, she hoped that this was the final time that she would have to hide her ever-growing bump from the world.

She and Peter had come up with a plan over the phone the previous night. They'd agreed that Peter would deal with telling his family about the baby, feeling it wise to keep Carla sheltered from the interrogation by Tracy that was sure to ensue. Meanwhile, Carla would speak to Adam. Alone. Peter had tried to insist that he came with her, at least for moral support, but this was something that Carla knew she had to deal with by herself. She knew the conversation wouldn't be pretty, and she wanted to protect Peter from having to hear the ins and outs of their sordid night together. It had taken some persuasion, but eventually she had managed to convince Peter that she would be alright on her own.

Finally satisfied with her appearance, Carla made her way downstairs and through the bar, waving a quick goodbye to Jenny as she passed, and stepped out onto Coronation Street, right as her mobile phone chimed loudly from the bottom of her handbag. She rustled around inside the bag before drawing it out and glancing down at the illuminated screen, a small smile slowly appearing on her lips as she noted Peter's name emblazoned across the screen.

Sure you don't want me to come with you? Xxx

She looked up across the street at the entrance of Barlow Legal Services and drew in a deep breath before tapping out a reply.

I'll be fine. Good luck xxx

Shutting her phone off and dropping it into her bag once again, Carla crossed the road diagonally in the direction of the offices. She tentatively pushed open the door and climbed the stairs, listening carefully for the sound of voices, a telltale sign that Imran or a client would be hovering nearby. She couldn't hear a thing. Pushing open the door to the waiting room that was sandwiched between the two legal offices, she was relieved to find that Imran's was empty with the door wide open. Glancing to Adam's, she could make out his faint silhouette behind the mosaicked glass door, which she went straight to and opened without knocking. Adam's head shot up, and he frowned at his unwelcome visitor.

"What do you want?" he asked, bluntly. Carla threw a cautious glance over her shoulder.

"Is Imran due back soon?

"No, he's at court all morning. But if you're here for a rematch, I'm not interested," Adam sneered, looking back down at his paperwork. Carla narrowed her eyes at him and folded her arms across her chest. There had been no love lost between them since the aftermath of their night together had come to the surface and had led to the inevitable breakdowns of both of their relationships. Adam, unfairly, placed the blame on her.

"The size of your ego," she scoffed, "Don't flatter yourself, darlin'. I wouldn't touch you again with a barge pole.

"So say your piece and leave," Adam retorted, "And make it quick. People will talk if you're seen here, and me and Sarah are just starting to get back on track."

"Then she's more stupid than I ever gave her credit for."

"If you've only come here to insult my wife, then-"

"I'm pregnant, Adam." Finally, Adam met her eyes, dropping his paperwork into a heap on his desk. Carla stared him down, defiantly refusing to look away.

"Are you having me on?"

"Yeah, I just thought I'd waste part of my day coming here to have a laugh at your expense," Carla shot back sarcastically, giving a not-so-subtle roll of her eyes, "I'm nearly thirteen weeks."

"Thirteen…?" Adam trailed off, and it was obvious as he looked up at the ceiling that he was doing some quick mental calculations in his head, "So you mean…?"

"Glad to see your maths skills haven't faltered with all that legal jargon floating around in your head. Thirteen weeks takes us back to early November, but I could have been knocked up anytime between then and the end of the month."

"What are you going to do?"

"What do you mean what am I going to do?"

"I never wanted this." Carla gave an incredulous laugh.

"This isn't about you and what you want," she snapped, her hand falling protectively to her stomach at the sheer mentioned of any alternatives to keeping the baby inside her, "This is about me and this baby. My body, my rules."

"What, so you're planning on raising it on your own?"

"No. I'm going to raise it with Peter." Now it was Adam's turn to laugh loudly. He rose to his feet, causing Carla to flinch at the scrape of his chair legs against the floor, and slowly started to approach her in an almost menacing manner. She refused to back away, lifting her chin.

"Now I've heard everything. And how does Peter feel about the possibility of raising his great-nephew as his own kid?"

"He's over the moon. There's only, like, a ten percent chance of it being yours, anyway. Me and him might have been going through a rough patch, but we didn't entirely keep our hands off each other."

"And do you seriously think that if there's a ten percent chance that that baby's mine, that I'm going to let it be brought up by an alcoholic and a nutjob?" Adam growled, his face so close to Carla's that she could smell the bacon that he'd had for breakfast on his breath, causing her stomach to turn unpleasantly. She sucked in a sharp breath and screwed her hands into tight fists, penetrating the palms of her hands with her jagged fingernails. Any mention of her battle with her mental health with such a negative connotation made her bubble with anger, and if she wasn't growing a human being inside her, she'd have sent one of her balled fists straight into Adam's picture-perfect nose.

"Adam-" she went to respond, but instead he sharply cut her off.

"You need to find out if it's mine. There are tests…"

"You think I haven't already tried? The test isn't accurate if the potential fathers are related." Adam snorted loudly and backed away from her again, shaking his head in disbelief.

"There's a name for women like you, you know," he jeered, eyeballing her with a look of disdain and disgust, "Women who can't keep their legs shut whenever anything in trousers so much as smiles at her or buys her a glass of Merlot."

"Funny, I don't remember you being an unwilling participant," Carla barked in reply, bravely closing the gap between them, her hand acting as a barrier between Adam and her stomach, "You can call me all the names you like, Adam, but you were there, too. You are every bit as much to blame for what happened as I was. So you can drop your double standards and accept that if you're mature enough to have sex, then you have to be mature enough to deal with the consequences. You can slut-shame me all you like, but whatever you say about me applies to you as well." Adam opened his mouth to reply, but he quickly clamped it shut again under Carla's harsh glare, and she continued. "I told you about this baby out of courtesy, because the rest of the world is about to find out and I didn't want you to be the last to know. But I'm giving you a get-out-of-jail-free card; as far as I'm concerned, the baby's got nothing to do with you, and you and Sarah can carry on living your comfy little lives without us in the way." Before he could get a word in, Carla turned sharply on her heel and pulled the door firmly shut on their conversation before quickly fleeing from the room and out of the building, taking the stairs two at a time. Stepping out into the street, she was relieved to find Peter propped up against the wall of Number One, puffing away on his vape. He smiled faintly as he saw her approaching, taking a moment to observed how radiant she looked.

"Are you okay?" he asked, having noticed where she'd just left. Carla nodded, joining him in leaning back against the wall, pulling her long, dark hair over one shoulder to stop it from getting tangled against the brickwork.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured him, keeping a cautious eye on the solicitors' office in case Adam followed her and tried to cause chaos in the street, "How'd it go with your lot?"

"They're happy, mostly," Peter replied with a shrug, "Had a few questions, but nothing I couldn't handle." That was a slight understatement; Peter had faced a full-on interrogation by his sister as well as his father, both of whom had been extremely concerned about the impact that the bombshell of a new baby could have on his physical health and recovery, particularly with the added element of the baby's potential paternity. He was glad that he'd made the decision to keep Carla away from the house for the morning, as he didn't want any kind of stress or negativity near the baby. He hesitated, before eventually asking the question he was dying to ask. "How did Adam take it?" Carla sighed, giving a shrug to match his own.

"As you'd expect. He's just getting his life with Sarah back on track when boom, here comes Hurricane Carla with yet another spanner to throw into the works."

"Hey," Peter adjusted his position so that he was facing her and leaning against the wall on one shoulder, using his free hand to slip a finger underneath her chin and turn her face towards him. He then gently brushed the pad of his thumb across her defined cheekbone. "I don't want you worrying about it. It'll sink in for him eventually. But you, you need to concentrate on keeping that baby big and strong."

"Not too big, I hope. I want everything to be in full working order in that department after I've given birth," she tried to joke, but a huge lump formed in her throat at the thought that, actually, it didn't matter to her about the condition of her body post-partum. The only person that she wanted to touch her ever again was so hurt, so damaged by what she'd done to him that despite being in such close proximity, he was too afraid to even kiss her. Her comments hadn't seemed to have the same effect on Peter, however, as he gave her a small smile, and Carla took a deep breath, swallowing down the lump. He had no idea the effect that he had on her.

"Why don't we pop to the Bistro? It's just gone ten; they should be offering some kind of brunch menu now, and I want to keep our baby happily fed," Peter offered.

"Actually, there's one more person that I need to tell before we become the sole topic of conversation."

"Want me to come with you?" Carla firmly shook her head, a genuine smile creeping up onto her lips.

"No, thank you. I think I can handle this one on my own."

Stepping into Roy's Rolls, Carla was hit by an instantly calming sense of nostalgia, of homeliness that filled her with a weird kind of warmth that was unexplainable. The unmistakable waft of bacon and toast that wasn't burning (which was a rarity as far as she was concerned) was so familiar, and took her back to times in her life where she'd been running, afraid, and had always ended back at the same place and in the arms and care of the same person. Peter was her soulmate, but above all others, Roy Cropper was her rock. He'd been there to support her whenever she'd needed it; after Peter's affair, her miscarriage, after her relationship with Nick had broken down, and the fire, and when her life had well and truly hit rock bottom and she'd almost died fighting a mental illness that had completely overcome her. In every traumatic moment of her life, Roy had been there by her side, holding her hand and helping her to fight battles that she wouldn't have had the strength to fight without him. And now that she finally had some happy news to share, he was the one person in the world that she'd looked forward to telling the most.

Carla was pleased to find that the café was empty but for Roy fussing behind the counter, wiping down and disinfecting every surface he could find, so engrossed in his work that he'd failed to register the sound of the door. She couldn't help but grin as she stepped up to the counter.

"You know, you really ought to be more careful. If you're not going to pay attention, lock your door. I could have been anyone," she teased playfully. Roy immediately stopped what he was doing and gave her his undivided attention, stepping out from behind the counter.

"Ah, yes, but then I wouldn't have your unannounced visits to look forward to," he replied, softly. He took in the way that she was beaming at him, her mouth so wide that she almost had her very back teeth on show. She only smiled like that when she was genuinely happy. He couldn't remember the last time that he'd seen her smile so beautifully.

"Is there anyone else here?" Carla asked, pushing herself up onto her tiptoes to see if she could spot anybody else slaving away in the kitchen. Roy shook his head.

"Nina was here, but the breakfast rush died down early today so she's gone to visit Asha before the lunchtime guests arrive," he explained. He ushered her over to a table and slid into the chair opposite her, waiting expectantly for whatever news she had come to share with him.

"How is Nina?" Carla asked, the anticipation of telling Roy her big secret bubbling away in her stomach so pleasantly that she wanted to stretch the announcement out for as long as she could, "I've missed her the last few times I've popped in."

"Nina is very well… As are you, by the looks of things," Roy noted, "You look very happy, Carla."

"I am," she agreed. She was unable to contain herself any longer, and she pulled her handbag into her lap, rummaging around inside until she drew out the blue folder again, carefully slipping a photograph out of it and placing it upside-down on the table between them. She watched with baited breath as Roy furrowed his brow and slid the picture towards himself. He carefully picked it up, and as his eyes fell to the black and white scan photograph that had Carla's name etched across the top of it, a smile started to stretch across his face, matching Carla's.

"Carla…" he breathed, his words of congratulations catching in the back of his throat as a wave of emotion suddenly overcame him. His eyes flicked up from the photograph to the woman in front of him, the woman who he had once been completely unable to understand but had grown to love as if she were his own flesh and blood. He had always felt indebted to her since she'd saved Hayley's life many years ago, and in the wake of his wife's death, he'd vowed to ensure that he looked after her for as long as he could. Carla Connor didn't allow many people to look after her, but Roy was the exception. He'd watched her lose everything she'd held dear because of Peter Barlow once upon a time, and had supported her as she'd built herself back up again, only to crumble down once more. But every time she fell, he was there, helping her back to her feet, giving her somewhere to live and a shoulder to cry on. He loved her like a daughter; it was a feeling that he hadn't had for many people in his life. And seeing her now, finally finding some happiness after the tumultuous few years she'd had, filled him with happiness, too. So much so that he had to swallow down a lump that had formed in his throat. "I'm so happy for you." Carla sniffed loudly as tears gathered in her eyes, and she pushed her chair backwards and got to her feet, Roy copying her. Without saying anything, she threw her arms around him, giving him a warm, tight hug. At the start of their strange, unexpected friendship, such a motion would have been awkward, but now it was commonplace. Neither said anything for a few seconds as Carla tried to regain control of her emotions, something she'd struggled to do of late.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice wavering. She released him from her grasp, wiping away the tears that had spilled over from underneath her eyes, careful not to smudge her eyeliner. She nodded down at the scan photo. "You can keep that. Uncle Roy." Roy smiled at the nickname, which instantly felt right. Though Carla felt like a daughter to him, her baby already had two loving grandfathers; he was more than happy to step into the role of reliable uncle.

"Is Peter…?" he trailed off, not wanting to push her, or to make her feel questioned in any way. She was going to have enough of that from the rest of the world. She would tell him everything when she was ready. Carla nodded in response.

"He's happy," she replied. She knew exactly what he meant, but right now, the ins and outs of how their baby came to exist didn't matter. It was healthy, and they were both happy. She would tell Roy the truth eventually, but in that moment, Adam and all the negativity surrounding their predicament didn't matter. Their secret was finally out, and now it was all starting to feel real.