In the years to come they would both agree that the following months were the worst of their long and storied relationship.
He hadn't come home for hours that first night. Every time she tried to bring up the pregnancy he changed the subject. Every time she yelled, he left.
Needless to say, they didn't share a room again for quite some time.
Everyone at work pretended not to notice that things were most definitely not okay between them. Pete offered to beat the Doctor senseless one afternoon when he caught Rose crying in the file room, but she refused to let him. Hurting him wouldn't fix anything.
And then one day he seemed to adjust to the idea. He brought her a cup of tea at her desk, shut the door, and kissed her the way he'd kissed her when their relationship was still new and uncomplicated and she'd had no doubts about his feelings for her. He stopped spending the night at Torchwood after that. They didn't really talk about the pregnancy, but she caught him looking at her sonogram pictures one morning when he thought she was still asleep, and at night his hand started to curve around her swollen abdomen before they went to sleep.
They were still awkward around one another, though. He helped her paint the spare bedroom and assembled the crib, but wouldn't talk about the baby. Wouldn't even say the word. The baby's room was "the-ah-room." The crib was "the-ah-bed." She caught him looking at her warily in the mirror one morning when she was trying on a new maternity jumper and couldn't keep from bursting into tears. He ran out of the room as soon as her face started to screw up.
For all the Doctor talked, and he still talked all the time, he never really said much anymore, she realized. The words were just to fill the silence. She knew he was trying to fix things between them, but he was just such utter crap at it that it was almost like he wasn't making an effort at all.
Then, in the early hours of the morning one June day she shook him awake.
"It's time."