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“What does Chasity have to say about you—”
“Chasity was never a part of my master plan and I doubt you care what she thinks.”
“I really don’t give a fuck. For once, I didn’t have a response, so I followed up with something that’s especially irrelevant to me.”
“Figured.”
“Continue.”
“Had I realized plugging her into my plan wouldn’t work when it was all said and done, I could’ve saved us both some headache and hard times.”
“Is that where this sadness is coming from?”
“Sadness?”
“I can feel it, Nay. It’s all over you. From the look in your eyes to the movements of your body to the sound of your voice.”
“Chasity in particular, no. But where my life is right now? Yes. Yes, that’s where it’s coming from. I ended things with Chasity, officially, just two days ago. We’d already separated six months ago. I guess we were both just sticking around for our heart’s sake. Because she was once my best friend, I’ve never spent much time without her around. In some way, I dreaded the day I’d have to end it all, but I knew that I wouldn’t step into year thirty-six, holding onto anything or anyone that didn’t align with that plan. As delusional as it might seem, it’s true.”
“Six months?”
“Is that all you retained from everything I said, Milo?”
She took another sip from her glass.
“No. It’s one of the three most important things, though.”
“What else did you manage to pull?”
“The fact that you feel as if you fell off track somewhere and your thirty-sixth birthday is your marker. Your new starting point. Your relationship with Chasity ended long before the six-month separation but you held on three months after that because you’re not accustomed to living life without her. She was once your best and often times your only friend.”
“You were listening.”
“It’s disheartening learning that you thought otherwise.”
“The clock is ticking for me, Milo, and it’s filling me with so much unwarranted anxiety. I can feel it swell in my throat every time I open my mouth to speak. By thirty-six, I always saw myself with children and a husband living in a house that made my younger self extremely proud. It’s like I’ve been busting my ass since I was a kid for that life, only to feel empty every day that I walk inside of my home and no one is running up to me, screaming their little heads off.
“I’ve come to terms with the fact that I won’t marry. I’m okay with that, but I’m not okay with continuing life childless. It’s daunting. The thought. And the fact that I deliver babies every day just makes it even worse. It’s like salt is being poured on fresh wounds each time I hear another one cry. Instead of continuing to wait or putting myself through the torture any longer, I have an appointment with Jessie this Sunday. She’s not open on Sundays, but she’s taking me, anyway. Privacy is a concern for us both and—”
“Jessie?”
I remembered only one Jessie, an old college buddy of hers who was into reproductive health.
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“IUI,” she clarified.
“IU…” I trailed off, mired with disbelief.
“I’m not getting any younger, Milo. So many risk factors increase in women over thirty-five. Yes, I see hundreds of women each year who have perfectly healthy babies after thirty-five, but it’s the twenty to thirty women who aren’t as lucky that haunt me when I fall asleep at night.
“Gosh, I’m making this all about me. I’m sor… I’m sorry. I’m piling my problems on you and that is not how I intended to spend the night. We haven’t seen each other in forever. I shouldn’t be so wasteful of our time together. Please forgive me.”
“Nature.”
“Sorry. I promise. I won’t talk abo—”
