He didn’t drink from his glass. He chose to stare at me instead.
“I really love her, but—”
“There is no but. If you love her, then you work out whatever that but is. If there’s love between two people, then all those disagreements, all those problems, they just don’t matter. My wife and I don’t have much in common. I’ve met women more compatible for me, but I’ve never turned my head because our love is bigger than compatibility.”
“It’s…it’s not that.”
“Alright.”
“The reason why my first marriage ended was because…we tried to have children. After several trips to fertility experts across the country, we realized we couldn’t have children—because of me.” I looked down at my glass, ashamed. “She said she was fine with it, but…she wasn’t. Then she left me.”
Dr. Hamilton was absolutely still, showing no emotion, his mind working to process what I’d just shared.
“Daisy wasn’t on my radar at all because we didn’t get along at first, but also because she’s my boss’s daughter. But then things happened really fast, and a week felt like a lifetime. It felt right—straight from the beginning. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like she’s always been there. I can’t really explain it—”
“You don’t need to. Because I understand perfectly.”
“So…I didn’t tell her. And then I met her family, and without asking about her plans for the future, I knew exactly what she wanted. So, I continued not to tell her…because I didn’t want to lose her.” I looked up to see his face.
His look changed, his eyes dropping to the table, his body still. “I’m really sorry to hear that, Atlas. I can’t even imagine everything you’ve been through.”
Yes…I gave lone wolf a whole new meaning. There wasn’t a single person I was related to on the planet, and I would never be related to anyone ever again.
“This conversation will be hard, but you need to tell her.”
“I did.”
He lifted his eyes, his look pensive.
“She told me we could adopt…sperm donor…all of that. But…” I shook my head. “That all happened in the moment, and she may not care about those things right now, but if she really thinks about her future, she might care. I asked her to take some time for herself to really think about the situation.”
Dr. Hamilton inhaled a deep breath then let it out slowly. “I wish I knew what to say right now.”
“It’s okay. It’s a lot. I understand.”
He bowed his head, quiet. “May I ask exactly what the doctor said about your condition?”
“Because of my blood disorder, every embryo I contribute to has one defective chromosome, so the pregnancies constantly result in miscarriages. After my ex and I had three, we knew something was wrong.”
“You know, doctors are wrong about this all the time—”
“No.”
He looked up, his eyes narrowing on my face.
I started to get choked up because that process had been torture. “I can’t go through that again. I can’t do those tests and keep getting terrible news. It’s like being a punching bag. I went to different doctors, I tried different things…I did everything I could. I’m not going through that again. And I won’t put my partner through that either because it’s just as traumatizing for her as it is for me.” I dropped my gaze and controlled my breathing, refusing to break down in front of him.
He was quiet for a long time. “I understand. It’s not the same, but when my wife had cancer, every test was torture. Even when I knew her condition, every time it was said to me, it was exactly like that…being a punching bag.”
“I can’t have children. End of story. I don’t want to lose Daisy because I never thought I’d feel this way about someone, but my feelings are selfish. She deserves to go through all those life stages, having children, making her family…”
“Those life stages don’t mean anything if you aren’t with the person you want to be with.”
My eyes locked on to his again.
“I don’t know how she’ll feel about it. I’m glad she’s seriously considering it because you’re right, she needs to know if that’s a life she’ll want. Especially for women, it’s a really big deal. You need to be with someone who completely accepts who you are, and if that’s not her, it’ll be someone else.”
“But I want it to be her.” I blurted it out without even thinking—to her father, of all people.
He didn’t have a reaction.
“Does this…change the way you feel about me?”
“In what regard?”
“I mean, do you still approve of me for your daughter?” Maybe I shouldn’t even ask. He was brilliant and made brilliant people because of it. If his daughter didn’t reproduce, his legacy wouldn’t pass on. Reproduction was the single most important action in human biology, and as a scientist, he knew that.