Backup for 3 a.m. diaper duty.
He’s stupidly hot.
His tongue can do magical things
Cons:
His hotness got me pregnant.
Basically glorified roommates. (if “with benefits” could be a pro)
He could bail whenever. (Hello, daddy issues)
Admit I’m not superwoman.
We’re opposites (don’t they attract?)
I tap the pen against my mouth while studying the list. Even though I keep adding more cons, why do most of them feel like they should be pros?
Then again, I don’t buy the whole “opposites attract” thing. Heath and I are more like oil and water—we just don’t mix.
Even the concept of moving in together is laughable. His loft is all clean lines and muted tones, stripped of anything personal. There isn’t a stray sock or misplaced object in sight. It’s downright unnerving. My place, on the other hand, is the opposite of minimalism—walls covered with abstract art, mismatched vintage furniture Grams and I have collected over the years, and what looks like piles of clutter to anyone else but is organized chaos to me.
Not to mention, we’re barely staying civil as it is, and the man still managed to knock me up. If we actually lived together, I’m pretty sure it would end in mutual insanity.
After further review, my list confirms what I already knew—rejecting him was the right call.
So why is my stomach twisted up in knots?
