“Yeah, I think so.” She inches closer, tipping her head. “You’re going to make such a good dad, you know that, right?”
Her words mirror Chloe’s from last night so much it unnerves me. Everything about this feels wrong. I should be having this conversation with Chloe, not Stacey. We kept things causal. I made sure to use protection every single time we hooked up to prevent this from happening, but I know it’s not foolproof.
I never thought my past would come back to haunt me, yet here it is, growing right in front of me.
“I, uh, I…I hope so,” I force out. Stacey’s phone rings and she quickly pushes her hand into her purse to get it. Frowning when she sees who's calling, she lets out a sigh. “It’s a client,” she huffs. “My job doesn’t offer paid maternity leave, you know.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Right?” She shakes her head, short dark hair falling around her face. “I’ll have to figure something out, though. Childcare is expensive and I really want to be home for at least the first month or so.”
“That is ideal for…for the both of you.” The surreal feeling hits me again, taking me back to the only time I discussed—with some seriousness—how I’d like to raise my children. It was a few weeks before Rory had Adam, and she was wrestling with going back to work or not. She loved her job and worked hard to make it through nursing school. But Dean has a good job and was able to provide for the family, meaning she didn’t have to go back to work if she didn’t want to.
I’d never really put much thought into it before then, never really saw how unfair it is to put that pressure on the mother. Go back to work and you’re accused of not being there for your kids. Stay with your children and you don’t want to provide for your family. You lose no matter what you choose.
In the end, Rory went back part-time. She had a hard time at first, but is happy now to have a career and time away from the house and the family. It works for her, makes her feel accomplished, but I know that isn’t for everyone. Archer is my only married friend, and while he’s a surgeon, his wife makes double what he does working mostly from home. They have a full-time nanny now, but I know not working was never really a plan for Quinn. She loves her job, but not everyone is that lucky.
And for me…well, I’m a doctor. I make more than enough to provide for my family. I don’t have a preference either way to the mother of my children working or staying home full-time with the kids. I just want us all to be happy. If my wife wants to work, then she’ll work. If she wants to stay home, then I’ll do everything I can to make that happen. It wouldn’t matter. We’d be a family, and we’d figure it out together.
But having a child with Stacey…that didn’t work into any of my plans. It hits me right then just how careful and calculated I’ve been in my life. I would have laughed if you told me I was the kind of person who put thought behind every action, but standing here, feeling like I’m hovering above this very thing I call my life, I see it.
I did the things I was good at…the things I knew would be accepted.
I pushed Chloe away because opening up to her posed the biggest risk of my life: getting rejected by the only person in the entire world who meant anything to me.
College. Pre-med. Med school. Residency. And then taking the job here at this hospital. It was all part of a plan I didn’t know I’d carefully made. I controlled what I could so I wouldn’t have to admit it to myself and could keep living in denial that my life wouldn’t be complete without Chloe.
And as soon as I have her, everything turns upside-fucking-down.
My life still won’t be complete without her. She is every goddamn thing to me.
“I’m starving and am having dinner with my sister. I haven’t told anyone yet, don’t worry.” Stacey leans in, lips turned up in a smile.
I just nod, again, at a loss for words but feeling relief. If she tells her family, then there’s more of a risk of word getting out to my family, and that’s not a conversation I’m ready to have. The weekend. Give me the goddamn weekend.
The elevator doors open, and a woman with dark red hair steps out, head turned down as she looks at her phone. It’s not Chloe, but I’m reminded yet again how precarious this all is…and how much is on the line. What if I hadn’t gotten here at this exact moment? What if Stacey had gone up and knocked on my door. Would Chloe have answered? And then what? My throat tightens at the thought of it…of Stacey telling Chloe she’s pregnant.