Page 26 of Say My Name

I look directly at her. “I may be more romantic than you think.”

“I’ve never considered you romantic.”

I let the silence hang for a beat, then abandon the pretense of clinical distance. “I’d prefer the old-fashioned way.” The words are out, a clear boundary crossed. I wait for her to throw me out.

Her fingers stop moving against the cup. Her eyes drop to my mouth, travel over my chest, and go lower.

She catches herself and looks back at me, color moving up her throat. Her brief inventory lands with enough force that I have to shift in the chair, but I don’t move closer or ask what she pictured.

“We are still discussing a hypothetical man,” she says.

“If that helps.”

“It does.”

She is looking at her tea when she says it. I let her have the lie.

“Fine.” She folds her hands on the desk, the analyst taking over again. It’s a defense I recognize. “Tell me why I would choose him.”

“Because you already trust him. You can verify his entire history, require any testing you want, and know that he shares your priorities. He respects your career, and he has the resources to provide for a child without ever limiting your own decisions.”

“You’re assuming a lot about what I want in a co-parent.”

“Then correct me.”

“I’d want someone who doesn’t treat my work as optional. Being involved wouldn’t give him final authority. He would have to make decisions with me.”

“As an equal partner. Yes.”

“He’d also have to want the daily parts. He doesn’t get to appear for birthdays and photographs while I handle everything difficult.”

“He wants all of it.”

The certainty in my answer makes her pause.

“What makes you so certain?”

“Because he wants to be a father. He wants the appointments, the sleepless nights, school pickups, and hard decisions. He isn’t offering a sample and disappearing.”

Elena looks down at the report she abandoned. “That’s a permanent relationship.”

“Co-parenting is permanent.”

“I told you I don’t want my future dependent on another relationship.”

Her words are a direct challenge to what I want. But what I want isn’t part of the offer. “You don’t want romantic dependence,” I say carefully. “This arrangement wouldn’t require romance.”

I’m already being dishonest about my side of the arrangement. I want more than a contract. That risk belongs to me. Elena needs the facts that let her decide.

Her eyes lift. “What does he get?”

“A child he gets to raise.”

“With me.”

“Yes.”

She is quiet for several seconds, her mind clearly running through logistics and consequences. This is a practical problem now, not a hypothetical. “Cliff would lose his mind.”