Gabby: Yes. She inserted a crying emoji.
Me: Do you want company?
Gabby: Bring beer and tequila
Me: No tequila. IPA. See you in 15
Gabby: Love you. *heart emoji*
I cared for Gabby, as well as owed her for all the times she’d coaxed me through when depression and a desire to hurt myself threatened to overwhelm me. Thus, I’d be what she needed—a sympathetic ear. Maybe I’d also help Gabby see what she was doing to her marriage. Because as much as I wished otherwise, she had to take responsibility for her part in their separation.
After stopping for beer, I drove the short distance to Gabby’s house. When I pulled into the driveway behind her Subaru, I saw her on the porch, rocking. She seemed to be in her own world and hardly reacted when I kissed her forehead and lowered onto the twin Adirondack chair, placing the six bottles between us.
I grabbed one, twisted the cap off, and tapped the cold glass on Gabby’s arm, which seemed to bring her back to the present. She took it and stared onto the street for a minute longer before she said, “Thanks. And not just for the beer.”
“You’d do the same,” I said and opened a bottle for myself. I clinked hers and then took a long draw.
“She wants a baby, Ethan. And told me that I’d carry it, just like we agreed months ago. But just like the last time I cried on your shoulder, we’re having the same argument. I won’t agree to a stranger as the sperm donor.”
“Initially, you agreed to a stranger, Gabby. She’s angry because now you’re going back on your word.”
“But like I keep telling her, that was before I met a few of them. No, Ethan. I won’t be bullied into carrying a baby for nine months with a sperm donor that we found on an online site. It’s the same as a dating app.”
“Is there any way to compromise?’
Gabby gave me a sidelong glance, then turned back to looking at the street. “If we use your sperm. Otherwise, she’s going to apply for a divorce.”
I choked over my own tongue. “What the fuck? You’re the one who told me that I was too unsettled to be the father.”
“Because back then, I wasn’t being serious,” Gabby admitted. “Now I am. You wouldn’t have to do anything with the baby.”
“Gabby, would you listen to yourself? Do you really believe that I’d father a child and not be a part of their life?”
Gabby had the decency to cast her eyes downward. “I’m desperate, Ethan.” She turned watery eyes to me. “I love Belle. She’s my everything and I don’t want to lose her. I know it’s my fault. Before she agreed to marry me, she asked if I wanted children, and I said yes.”
“Because otherwise she wouldn’t have,” Ethan said softly.
“I’ve been able to put her off but that’s not working anymore. She wants me to get pregnant before we get any older.”
“And you really don’t mind being the one who’d have to carry the child?”
Gabby shook her head. “I do in a way, but she can’t physically. But it’s also being a parent. Having to rearrange our whole lives. I didn’t always feel that way,” Gabby added hastily. “It’s been since Belle has proven to be the perfect submissive. In every way. Like I’d imagine you to be without the element of pain.” She picked nervously at the label on the bottle. “The last time you were here, you asked how we would keep our dynamic alive. The more I thought about it, I realized that we could in a limited capacity.”
“What does Belle think about it?”
Gabby drank again and just looked at me for a long time.
“You didn’t talk about it,” I supplied.
“How could I bring in something else to argue about?” Gabby groaned, her eyes watery.
“Because if she’s willing to abandon a piece of her nature that’s key to your relationship, then do you want to stay married to her? Either that or she’s not the submissive you believe her to be.”
I drained my beer in the ensuing silence as we rocked, our shoes tapping on the floorboards to keep the motion going. The streetlamps flickered on and being a Friday night in a neighborhood with seemingly everyone under my age, residents were out celebrating the finish of another work week. As a result, quiet reigned, with the exception of the distinctive call of cicadas and Gabby’s sniffles.
“Would you think about it, Ethan?” She put the bottle down and planting her feet on the ground to stop the rocking, she clasped my hand and squeezed it. “Please, just tell me yes, even if you won’t.”
I kissed her knuckles. “You know I won’t lie to you, Gabby. I will think about it, but not right away. I won’t until I feel grounded and I’m not praying every night that I don’t pick up the flogger. You wouldn’t want a baby with self-harming tendencies.”
