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“In my defense, you didn't see the Kelpien priest who married us,” I joke. “The Area 51 vibe in that place would have put anybody in a romantic mood.”
I laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but Pete isn't having it. He glowers at me, and I can see his brain spinning as he's already trying to figure out how to get me out of this mess without it costing me a fortune. That's just what he does.
“You have nothing to worry about, Pete,” I assure him. “We haven't filed the marriage certificate, and we aren't planning to. It was just a drunken flight of fancy we had that night. A lark. It wasn't anything we were taking seriously.”
“That's a big roll of the dice, Aaron.”
“Not really. It was purely ceremonial. If we don't file the certificate, it'll be like it never happened. You're a lawyer, you should know that,” I poke at him.
“That's not what I'm talking about,” he fires back. “Trusting her to not file the certificate is the roll of the dice. Especially now that she's pregnant.”
I laugh softly. “Is there anybody you actually trust to do the right thing, or what they say they will?”
He feigns thinking for a moment then turns to me. “Nope. I'm a lawyer, I'm kind of conditioned to think this way.”
I lean back in my seat. “Well, you can put your mind at ease. Emily isn't somebody you have to worry about. She's a good woman and has a good heart.”
“Yeah, well, that good heart can go bad real fast when it comes to not being able to meet basic needs,” he replies. “I mean, I know you're paying her well and all, but is it really enough to comfortably raise a kid on?”
“Like I'm not going to take care of my own responsibilities,” I snap at him. “I am never going to be a deadbeat dad –”
Pete raises his hand to cut me off. “Not what I meant. Sorry it came out that way.”
A silence descends between us. I lean forward, pick up the cup of iced tea I grabbed at lunch and take a long swallow.
“What do you think you're going to do?” Pete finally breaks the silence. “About the baby?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, are you going to be a part of its life? Or just a financial resource?”
Though there is no judgment in Pete’s tone of voice, my brain can't help but fill it in any way. And when it does, I once again feel like a complete asshole. That feeling has been my constant companion since Emily and I found out she was pregnant, and I didn't immediately react how some people would have expected me to react.
I reacted not with unfettered joy as some do. I reacted with a sense of existential dread. As I've thought about it over the last few days, I realize my first concern was for myself and not for Emily – or our baby. And that's what has me feeling like an asshole.
I run a hand over my face and shake my head. “I really don't know right now, Pete,” I confess. “I wasn't planning on this.”
We enter the office and as we pass through the lobby, our voices immediately dropped to a low hush as we talk. The last thing I want, or need is for office gossip to start spreading like wildfire.
“Just to play Devil's advocate here –”
I grin. “Something you're exceptional at.”
“We all have our talents,” he quips. “Anyway, we've talked before and you've always said there's part of you that wants to raise a family.”
“Yeah, but I wanted to do that on my own terms. When I was ready to start a family and was doing it intentionally.”
He shrugs. “When will you be ready? When will that planetary alignment occur?” he mocks. “I mean, not to put too fine a point on it or anything, but you're not exactly getting any younger.”
I laugh and give him the finger. “I'm in my prime, asshole.”
“Yeah, at the moment,” he presses. “But Father Time has a way of sneaking up on us, man. You're in your prime today, but the next thing you know, you look up and find that ten years have passed – and you're most decidedly not in your prime anymore.”
“You sound like you think I should be more than just financial support.”
Pete pauses to consider his words for a moment before speaking. “Knowing you as I do, I think that if you aren't more than that, if you're not part of this child's life, that you'll kick yourself every day for it.”
I let his words sink in for a moment. “Yeah, maybe. Hell, I don't know. I think I'd be a shitty father.”
