“You don’t need to get home?”
He shook his head. “Michelle’s still at work. Diego’s in school for the next couple of hours, and Sam’s with the sitter. What’s up?”
I pushed out a breath. “I’m starving, let’s get something to eat.”
“There’s that Italian place you like that’s not too far from here.”
“Buona Sera.”
Carter glanced over at me.
“Let’s eat somewhere else.” That restaurant was where I’d had my first unofficial date with my wife. The place I took her while courting, and when we first married. It was a place for just she and I. I wasn’t in the mood to share it with anyone else, even if that someone else was my brother.
“Cool. Let’s check out the new Asian fusion place down the street.”
I refrained from frowning, hating the concept of Asian fusion anything, but I was hungry and I hadn’t come here to spend an hour deciding where to eat.
Fifteen minutes later, Carter and I were sitting across from one another, while our waitress brought our glasses of water with lemon.
“Do you need more time to order or are you ready now?” she questioned through a wide smile as she looked between the two of us.
We ordered our food, and I waited until the waitress left, not missing the extra glances she tossed our way, before turning my attention to my brother.
“I need to talk to you.”
Carter gave me a deadpan expression. “I assume that’s why we’re here. What’s up?”
“I, uh …” I paused, not even knowing where to begin. For the first time in a long time I found myself stumped.
“How bad did you fuck up?”
My shoulders sagged. “Bad.”
He whistled low.
“Patience is pregnant.”
“Whoop!” he cheered, clapping, genuinely excited by the news.
As I glared at him, I’m sure my face was turning red with the anger that was starting to well up in me.
Carter suddenly quieted upon seeing my expression. “Wait … you’re saying that was your fuck up? Getting your wife pregnant?”
I took a sip of my water before answering. “Do I need to remind you of what happened the last time she gave birth?” I fucking hoped I didn’t.
“Of course I remember. But, Aaron—”
“It’s not uncommon. Women die carrying and birthing children almost every fucking day. And it’s not just women who don’t have healthcare. And I won’t go into the stats for women of color …” My voice trailed off, my hands balling into fists at the tension this particular conversation always brought up in me.
“You’ve been doing your research.”
“Of course. I’m preparing a chart to show Patience to explain to her why getting an abortion is the right thi—”
“Wait. Stop. Don’t say another word. Did you just fucking say what I think you did?” He didn’t even bother to hold his question until our waitress finished placing our plates in front of us and left.
I remained silent, my jaw flexing as I grinded my teeth together, waiting for the waitress to leave. When she did, I looked back to the brother who was only older than me by a few months.
“I did,” I said, in response to his question.
