He nods, studying me as if he’s memorising my words. It’s too much. Almost. Him staring as if I hold the answer to this predicament of ours. “Plus, as far as baby daddies go, mine has pretty good DNA,” I say, putting the attention back on him as I remove my hand from his and place it back onto my lap.
“Minus the cancer,” he says meekly, his eyes holding on me like an apology is being whispered between us.
Then it dawns on me. The reason for his far-off look earlier—his uncertainty about being able to commit toeveryfuture stage. “Are you still sick?” I ask cautiously, my heart in my throat.
“No. I’m not. I get tested every few months, and it’s been clear for over a year now. But—” He breathes in through his teeth, shuffling in his chair. “There’s always the chance it could come back somewhere else.”
Nausea risesagain.
“I’m sorry,” he says with a tilted, uneasy frown. “I know that a guarantee would be nice.”
“No, Bo… Don’t.” I shake my head that’s hanging between us. “There’s no guarantee for any of us. We just have to do the best with the time we’ve got,” I say, tilting up to look at him.
His nose twitches, along with his lips, an unexpected grin appearing. “We’re speaking in clichés now, huh?” he teases.
I scoff, despite my own smile growing. “Shut up,” I whisper, laughing. “Sorry. There’s no finding-out-your-surprise-baby-daddy-had-cancer how-to guide. I don’t know what to do here. I thought I’d be the one with all the juicy news today.”
“No, I appreciate it,” he says with no sincerity, “try adding something likethere’s a reason for everything.”
I roll my eyes.
“Ooh! Oryou’re so brave—I always liked that one.”
“You know, actually, this was all an elaborate ruse. I’m not pregnant. I’ll be on my way.” I cross my arms, leaning back in my chair and smirking.
“No?” he asks. “Wow, you arefullof surprises.”
“I was just bored, you know? Figured maybe I could get a free cup of coffee out of it. But it’s not worth it. You’re far too annoying.”
He licks his lips. The mischievous gleam in his eye tells me he’s thinking of his next quip. I wait impatiently, remembering how fun this rapport between us is. Then he blinks and shakes himself, wiping the expression from his face entirely.
“When did you find out?” he asks softly.
Oh,right. I suppose we’ve got more important things to discuss.
“Last week. The baby is due July twenty-fourth.” I look at the emptied plate between us, covered in sugar dust and crumbs. “And I have an ultrasound booked for next Friday.”
“Friday?” he asks, pulling out his phone. “What time?”
“Yeah. Four.”
“Where?” He looks up, thumbs poised to type.
“The clinic on West Ninth—it’s a blue building.”
He types that into his phone, nodding, then tucks it into his front pocket. “Want me to pick you up?”
“You… you’re coming?” I ask.
“Obviously.”
“No, uh, I’ll meet you there.”
“So…” He smiles weakly, taking a breath that seems to calm him some. “What happens now?”
“Can you get us more snacks?” I point to the graveyard of pastries. “I’m hungry.”
The abruptness in which he stands and walks over to the counter to order makes me shake my head, a small smile forming.
