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“Because she’s about to have another man’s baby,” I blurted, provoking curious looks from a few people down the bar. Shit.
“Would you rather she have your baby?”
“Of course not,” I said. “I have no interest in having a baby.”
“You say that now, but babies are kind of cute. They brainwash you with advanced finger holding techniques and shit. You forget pretty quickly how attached you were to your youth and freedom and…sleep.”
“I don’t want to be brainwashed.”
“Unless it’s by yourself, is that it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Do you love her?” he asked, squinting at me.
“I’ve only known her a month.”
He set a glass down and picked up the next. “Is that a no?”
“It’s a stupid question.”
“It wouldn’t be if the answer was yes.”
“I don’t love her,” I said. “I’m just sleeping with her.”
He scoffed. “Pathetic.”
“What?”
“Lie to yourself all you want, but don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
“Please,” he groaned. “When you’re just sleeping with someone, you don’t think about them when they’re not around like this. You’re lovesick. It’s written all over your stupid face.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I haven’t seen you this sprung since we watched that Kate Bush documentary.”
I pointed at him. “You were affected by that documentary, too.”
“Don’t change the subject,” he said. “My point is, you should tell her how you feel.”
“No chance. Telling her I feel crazy helps no one, and she needs support right now. She’s emotional enough as it is over this donor thing. The best thing I can do is be cool.”
“Yeah, because that’s what women want: apathy.”
“Fuck off.”
“You don’t pay me to fuck off.”
I folded my arms on the bar. “I just don’t get why this is happening. I’ve never had a problem keeping women at a distance before.”
“Maybe you never met a woman you liked this much.”
I scowled at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me settling down. Coming over for Maria’s pasta bake with my pregnant wife to discuss breastfeeding and how good baby diarrhea smells.”
“That’s not what parents talk about.”
“That’s exactly what parents talk about. That’s why they stay home. Because they don’t want their friends to know what child-centric monsters they’ve become.”
“Are you trying to talk yourself out of parenthood or out of falling for Maeve?”
“Both,” I said. “Because I can’t have one without the other, and even if she did want more with me, she wouldn’t when she found out I’m not interested in having kids. That’s a total dealbreaker for her. Even worse than not flossing.” I glanced up to find his face twisted with confusion. “Never mind. You don’t want to know.”
But he wasn’t even listening anymore. He was staring towards the door behind me.
“What?” I asked, looking over my shoulder. Speak of the devil.
