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“Oh phew. You guys were my favorite couple on Married Blind.”
“Thanks. And hey, if you’re interested, we start filming a new show next week. It’ll be live for the most part as we get ready to renew our vows.”
“I’ll be front row and center,” she exclaims, sitting back down. Her attention is solely on her phone now.
“She’s happy,” Joey says, leaning into me again.
“Even though she’s here to get a divorce, we made her day.”
Within seconds both our phones go off with notifications. We laugh as we check and find that she’s posted our picture on Instagram.
“I’m commenting,” Joey says, much to my surprise. I’m smiling when her comment on how excited she was to meet the woman today shows up, and a quick glance across the room tells me that Joey has made her day even brighter.
“That was nice of you.” I kiss her on her forehead instead of the lips. As much as I want to do the latter I don’t want that picture out there.
Joey shrugs. “She wanted me in her photo, it’s the least I could do.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, if you’ll follow me.”
Joey and I wave at our fan and head through the door, following our attorney’s secretary. She shows us into his office where we take a seat, joining hands immediately. Regardless of the outcome, we’re in this together. And if the baby is mine, we’re filing for custody and asking the judge to take into consideration Jules’ mental state and her actions inside our home.
“I bet you’re anxious.” Dan Woodstock came highly recommended by Blaze, making my decision to sign with him easy. Since then, Joey and I have changed all of my necessary paperwork and added her name. Before, my estate—for it’s worth—was going to my parents and the community center. Now everything will go to Joey. The community center will still benefit, but it will be at her discretion in the event she’s supporting our children. I’m planning ahead, even if she isn’t yet.
Dan opens the large manila envelope, causing my heart to start racing. I’ve never been more nervous than I am now. Even when I married Joey my body didn’t shake with anticipation like this.
“I feel like I should be on the Maury Povich show,” I blurt out, squeezing Joey’s hand. Both she and Dan laugh, but I don’t find it funny. My life hangs in the balance of what that piece of paper says.
“The alleged father, Joshua Wilson, can be excluded as the biological father of the fetus here by referred to as Baby Maxwell.”
“Holy shit, she is pregnant,” Joey says.
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask, swallowing hard. I don’t think I heard him correctly.
“You’re not the father, Josh,” Joey says with tears in her eyes.
“I’m not?”
She shakes her head, biting her lower lip. “You’re not.”
I sit back in the chair, letting the words sink in.
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah, your wife already said that. I think this is cause for celebration?” Dan asks.
“Fuck yeah it is.”
We both stand and I shake his hand, probably too aggressively, but I don’t care. I’m fucking happy. And before I leave the room, I pick Joey up and spin her around.
“The baby. . . it’s not mine.”
“I know.” I gently let her down, and she cups my face with her hands, smiling. “No lies here, Josh, but I’m really happy.”
“Me too, babe. Now we can make our own.”
There’s a sparkle in her eye telling me that yes, we’re going to start trying. Not that we haven’t been trying this whole time, but she’s still on the pill. Maybe when we get home we can have a ceremony for getting rid of those tiny pills that keep blocking my sperm from knocking her up.
twenty-three
