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“Maybe that’s not fair. I don’t know if he’s fluffy. He’s probably not fluffy at all. He’s probably hard all the fucking time, and that’s why donating sperm is one of his goddamn hobbies. Because everything Daniel does has to come to some noble end. Even his wanks.”
“Daniel?” Brian’s face twisted. “Who the fuck is Daniel?”
“Her sperm donor.”
“Why do you know that?”
“Because she wants a baby, and she doesn’t have a man in her life who loves her like that and—” My stomach lurched. I glanced towards the plastic bin attached to the paper shredder, sick rising at the back of my throat.
“You don’t look so good, man.”
I leaned forward and put my head in my hands. I wanted to cry and scream all at once, wanted to rip my skin off and my hair out. How did I get here?
“I thought you guys were getting serious,” he said. “Didn’t you meet the fam and celebrate Valentine’s Day together? You introduced her to your kids, for chrissakes.”
I looked up at him, my voice like a shadow. “I think I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life.”
“That’s a bold statement,” he said. “You’ve got a pretty long history of fucking up.”
“Not like this,” I said, shaking my head. Could a guy my age have a heart attack? “I should’ve told her how I felt. She had a right to know before…” I imagined her on a doctor’s table in a paper gown, her bent knees apart and her hand holding…her mother’s. Oh God, what have I done?
“Why didn’t you tell her?” he asked. “I assumed you had.”
“Because I’m an idiot,” I said, my tired eyes watering with regret. “Because she wouldn’t have picked me.”
“What do you mean? What are you talking about?”
“She wouldn’t have picked me,” I said. “If I’d been one of the donor profiles, I wouldn’t have made it past her first rounds of cuts.”
“But she did pick you.”
“What?” I asked, my blurred gaze finding his. “What did you say?”
“She did pick you,” he repeated. “She’s been picking you.”
I stared at him.
“Am I wrong?” he asked. “I thought you guys had been hanging out every chance you could get.”
I swallowed painfully, my mouth dry from stress and lack of sleep. Or maybe dehydration? When was the last time I ate something? No wonder I couldn’t find my words. I could barely muster enough spit to make a sentence. “We have been.”
“No offense, man, but it sounds like you’re the fluffy one here.” He leaned forward on his elbows, forgetting the mess of papers on his desk. “What did you say when she told you she was going to do this today?”
“I was supportive,” I said, not even knowing if that was true anymore. “I told her what I thought she wanted to hear.”
“Do you want her to go through with this?”
I shook my head.
“Then you have to tell her, Finn.”
“It’s too late,” I said, glancing at the Miller Time clock on the wall that made it look like every hour was happy hour. “She’s probably already done it.”
“And if she has?”
I looked back at him, my heart racing. “Then I guess I’m going to be a dad.”
