When the truth came out, it was awkward but not nearly as awful as it could've been.
You had considered leaving the gang, going to live back with your parents or some relatives until you'd safely had the baby and decided what you wanted to do. Did you want your child to grow up surrounded by violence, even if they were among a gang who'd look out for them? Not to mention it might feel like directly spitting in Abigail's face, carrying around a baby, though you're sure Jack would be excited about the concept of a half-sibling who he could play with. John hadn't been much help in making a decision, especially because of the puppy dog eyes he sent your way when you mentioned wanting to leave. He didn't want you to leave, even if he told you he understood and would support what you wanted; he wanted to be with you, no matter what.
John couldn't make things more obvious between the two of you, not necessarily hovering but clearly caring more about what you were eating and when you were doing it. Some would almost call it doting, something John hadn't really proved to be before this moment; you told him to back off, to wait until you at least consulted Hosea about what to do, before completely revealing your condition to everyone around. Another thing that had changed was John taking your advice, as you noticed he was spending a little more time around Jack; he still couldn't make up for all the time he wasted, but the effort to be a father and create some sort of bond was clear. It was easy to assume he was just doing it to prove to you he could take care of your baby, but you knew deep down that John cared about Jack, even if he had a hard time showing it.
The worst part is you felt guilty for doing this to Abigail.
You didn't take John away from her, because John himself had walked away long before. You couldn't help that you reciprocated those feelings, nor could you help that you ended up pregnant because of it. You weren't trying to get him to ignore Jack, or her, either, you wanted him to care about the family he had but you knew in the end, to her it would still seem like John was choosing you over them. You tried not to agonize over it too much, keeping yourself busy with simple chores around the camp, but it still stressed you out as you thought of the conversation that would be coming.
The truth came out when John was arguing with Abigail, over what, you didn't really know. You hadn't even been there like you wanted to, you had just heard them arguing across the camp and tried to do your best to ignore it. You'd simply been helping wash clothes when she came storming across the way, over towards where you and Tilly were sitting; her cheeks were red and her brows were furrowed, and you could just tell she knew.
"Are you... Are you really?"
"I-I'm sorry, Abigail, it just-"
"Don't." She holds out a hand, taking in a deep breath. "I just feel sorry for you. Because he's gonna do the same damn thing he did to me to you."
She turns and leaves before you have the chance to respond, and you can't even be mad at her words because she could be right. John could easily avoid responsibility for his actions again, largely ignoring the care it takes to raise a child and leaving you to do it on your lonesome. You had wanted to have faith in him after seeing him make more effort with Jack, but the reality is, you'd been preparing yourself for the worst case scenario since you discovered you were pregnant. Her words once again made you think about sending a letter home to let them know your condition and that you'd be coming to them soon, but something kept stopping you from taking that final step.
The whole camp knew that night and you feared how they'd treat you, though you knew that was damn foolish; if anyone was gonna catch the slack for this, it would be John, and he sure did. You heard Karen throw out a joke about which woman he planned on getting pregnant next, which only made him scowl. Arthur couldn't help himself either, but you had a feeling he had some more serious things to say to John when the gang fully got its jabs out on him. No one had a mean thing to say to you, though, and you were treated just about the same as you always had been; most of the men were quick to ask how you were feeling now, and would always offer you a place to sit when you came over to talk to one of them.
You sit yourself in John's tent that night, waiting for him to finally pull himself away and meander in. He's almost surprised to see you, because you had been rather frosty to him after the confrontation with Abigail; you had been caught off-guard, and were clearly unhappy about how it all played out. But there was a tension, a weight, that had finally been lifted off your shoulders with the truth being out, and now you didn't have to hide your pregnant belly anymore (it was getting hot, and wearing the coat so often had some questioning your sanity).
"Hey there." John zipped shut the tent behind him, not that it offered much privacy regardless.
"Hey." You respond, hand rubbing your stomach. It was an action that had almost become second nature at this point, comforting you when you felt you were in an awkward conversation. John comes over to sit next to you on his cot, looking over at your belly tentatively.
"If you wanna touch it, touch it." You reach over to grab his hand, and when he doesn't stop you, you slip it under the shirt you're wearing so he can touch the bare, stretched skin. You can tell it still makes him slightly uncomfortable, maybe the thought of being a father really wasn't up his alley, but he doesn't pull away from it. His calloused fingers gently glide over your skin, and you can hear him swallow before he carefully pulls his hand out.
"I had... bad timing."
"Yeah, we'll call it that."
"Abigail knew, said things were weird, and I know you wanted to talk to her together but I couldn't just keep it to myself anymore. She didn't give you too much grief, did she?"
"Nah. Just told me she feels sorry because I'm gonna be dealin' with the same thing she did." He cringes at that, but doesn't dispute it.
"Guess I deserve that."
"You do." You bite your lip, trying to sit up straight to help your aching back. "I still believe in you, John, as dumb as I may be. Just don't make me look like a fool, alright?"
"You won't be the one lookin' like a fool."
John's smiling now, and it feels like the air between you is a little clearer, even if all your problems hadn't been solved yet. His arm wraps around your shoulder and you lean against him, curling into his side the best you can as he leans over to press a kiss to your head. If you hadn't been pregnant you'd probably have hopped yourself onto his lap and been partly undressed by now, which leads you to realize exactly why you're pregnant by John's hand. The events of the day catch up to you quickly and your dirty thoughts are replaced with sleepy ones, and before you know, you're laying on your side on John's cot.
"I can make it back to my bed..." You mumble out sleepily, and John shakes his head.
"Nah, you're gonna stay here tonight. Like it more when you're here." You give him a weak smile before letting your eyes flutter closed, and you hear him getting into a comfortable sleeping position on the ground next to you (the cot was a little too small for a man and pregnant person).
You might not really understand where the future is leading you, but at least John was along for the ride.