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Me:Sorry to bother you, I know you're busy. But I'm wondering if you told Karina about our history yet?
His reply comes seconds later.
Dean:No. I haven't had the chance to tell her yet. Why?
Me: I'm getting ready to go to dinner with her tonight. Wanted to know what I was walking into.
Dean: Why are you going to dinner? We had a fight this morning, so she probably just wants a girlfriend to talk to. Isn't that what girls do? Bitch about their husbands?
Me: Why'd you fight?
Me: Sorry, that's none of my business. Don't answer that.
Dean: We don't always see eye to eye. Enjoy dinner. I'll tell her soon.
Me: Thanks, Dean. Goodnight.
Dean: Goodnight, Cam.
A simple text.A simple nickname, and I already have a stomach full of butterflies. I love it when he calls me Cam. He is the only one that ever has. Having him say it does weird things to me. Fuck. I need to get my mind out of the damn gutter. It isn't right to think of him that way anymore.
At eight,I walk into Bar Maroon, an upscale bar located in downtown Seattle. The place is packed but that’s not surprising considering it's a Friday night. It takes me a while, but eventually I find Karina sitting at a high-top table in the back, so I join her, taking the seat across her. She smiles happily, sliding a menu over to me and holding up a glass of wine.
"This is glass number three. I'm already feeling tipsy,” she says with a giggle the second I sit down.
"Easy girl, don't pass out or throw up on me."
She laughs, shaking her head. "Don't worry. I just really need a drink." She flags a server down, and we both order our meals, and I, too, order a glass of red wine.
Karina takes a large swig from her glass and sets it down with a heavy sigh.
I wasn't planning on inquiring about her fight with Dean, but by the way she's drinking and sighing so often, I can't help but ask the loaded question. "Are you okay?"
She looks up at me, her light-colored eyebrows pulling together for a moment as if she's in thought before finally shaking her head. "Dean and I fought this morning. I've been replaying it in my head ever since."
Fuck. I don't want to hear about it, but I want to try and help her feel better. "Okay, lay it on me. What happened?"
"He doesn't want to keep trying for a baby. I told him about my appointment with a fertility specialist, and he got mad. He said he's done trying."
Fuck. I wasn't prepared for this type of conversation. "Why? I thought you both wanted to have a baby." Over text, Dean said they didn't see eye to eye. Is this what he meant? She wants a baby, and he doesn't? But why? He loves children.
"He's been telling me for a few weeks that he wants to take a break from trying, but I guess I just haven't been listening. He's not interested in other options; he won't even listen to me. He's really done."
"Well, why don't you both just take a break? Take a step back, focus on each other, and just let it happen." Good God. Am I really sitting here giving her advice about having a baby? Perhaps subconsciously, I want her to quit trying. I don't want her to have Dean's baby.
Fuck, I really am a horrible person.
I make a mental note to book my first-class ticket straight to hell when I get home.
"That's what he says too. He says I'm obsessing too much and putting myself under too much stress. I know he's right, but dammit, I'm not getting any younger. I want a baby."
"Take a break. Even if it's short, just take one."
"For how long?"
"Start with one cycle. For one month, don't track your cycle. No tests, no obsessing, no discussing it. Just stop everything, and after one month, see where you're both at." Her eyes light up, and she looks at me with a smile so bright that you'd think I'd hung the moon. I wrap my hand around the stem of my wine glass and bring it to my mouth, taking a heavy sip.
On the way over, I'd taken a magic pill, and shouldn't drink, but oh well. I'm going to enjoy alcohol while I can.
