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“I’m not pregnant,” she whispered, and it was already difficult enough to hear her with the commotion around him. “It was negative.”
“I’m sorry, baby. How do you fe—”
“It wouldn’t have been positive.”
He sat up straighter. This was what his gut had been trying to clue him in on. When he first noticed that they’d had sex for months straight without her mentioning cramps, backaches, or headaches, he’d asked her about her last period. She’d responded with a look he hadn’t been able to place, but it wasn’t anything close to a look of hope or excitement that they could be on their way to being parents.
“Sydney, are you on birth control?” he asked.
Nothing.
And if she didn’t answer soon, he’d explode.
“Sydney.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“About a year now.”
She’d spent several years as a professional boxer. She had belts, titles, and accolades, but he never imagined she’d ever take a swing at him, not like this.
“So, you’re not ready,” he said, trying not to jump to conclusions. “That’s okay, baby. You could have told me. If you weren’t ready, why did you make me think you wanted this? I would’ve waited. You know that.”
“Because of how happy you were.”
“Is it because of what happened before?”
“No.”
“Okay. So, you’re just not—”
“Joel, I don’t want kids.”
If she’d hit him in the stomach the first time, this time, she’d aimed at his chest.
“I don’t want to be a mother.”
“Wait...” He closed his eyes and massaged his forehead hard enough to leave an indentation in his skull. “Syd, wetalkedabout this. This conversation was part of that sixteen-week pre-marital counseling program we did through your church. What made you change your mind? Is it me? Is it the job?”
“Those don’t help, but if I’m being honest, I don’t see myself giving up my life and freedom just to be a mother,” she said. “Add that ‘the job’ could kill you and leave me as a single parent, and I see no upside.”
He tapped his head against the wall behind him.
Be reasonable, Joel.
This is her body.
You’re not entitled to her body.
“I don’t know what to say. I want to be supportive, Syd. I do. But this was important to me. This was so important to me. We had entire conversations about kids, finances. How we planned to handle disagreements. Hell, we even talked about end-of-life decisions. Sydney, you told me you wanted to have my baby. That you couldn’t wait to…”
His voice trailed off.
During one of their counseling sessions, she’d looked him in the eyes and told him she couldn’t wait to have his baby. To bring their child into the world. And it nearly buckled his knees. There was so much power in that statement, especially since he’d always envisioned himself being the kind of father he’d grown up with.
“Syd, we’ll talk about this when I get home,” he redirected. “This isn’t a conversation you have over the phone. But, tell me something. Am I pushing you? Is that what it is? Maybe I talk about kids too much, and it feels like—”
