“We used to spend hours in cookbooks, coming up with themes,” he said. “Remember the bacon? Every course.”
Ilena’s shoulders relaxed a little. “No one wanted to try the bacon ice cream.”
“But they loved it. You knew they would. Doing this used to be fun.”
“Fun was a bit easier to come by when I wasn’t using my belly as a pincushion.”
“And that’s my fault?”
“Youhaven’t gotten me pregnant. So I shoot up and swallow pills and am ruled by my goddamn calendar app.”
“You didn’t have to be. We could have done this another way. But you’ve become so single-minded, there’s nothing else.”
“Oh, but there is. There’s exhaustion. And depression. Andfear and doubt and so many mood swings even I can’t keep track. Some days I love you and some days I hate you.”
“I know the feeling.”
Ilena gritted her teeth. “What more do you want from me?”
“That’s the thing, Ilena. All I wantisyou. This. Us. Or the us we used to be.” When she didn’t respond, his voice hardened. “The dinner you said would be good for us starts in five minutes. We’ve got no wine to serve, but we do have a hundred useless pregnancy tests.”
Jonah had always been a good balance to Ilena’s more reserved, practical nature. Yet in this, the first real test of their marriage, she’d come to see his behavior as childish and cavalier. “Nice way to trivialize what’s most important to me.”
“Since when? I swear to god, Ilena, your need to control everything has no end. This only became important to you when it became something you couldn’t do.”
“Me?Is that what you have to believe out of some neanderthal pride? Is that why you haven’t gone back to the fertility clinic for the follow-up? It’s been weeks, Jonah, have you even scheduled an appointment?”
“Not since missing the four you scheduled for me.”
“I wouldn’t have to treat you like a child if you didn’t act like one.”
The timer on her phone chirped. Jonah looked down, his face revealing nothing, and snatched the stick before she could.
“Give it to me, Jonah.”
“Now who’s the child? Does someone need to practice sharing?”
“This isn’t funny.” Ilena’s voice cracked.
“No, it’s not.”
The doorbell rang, the long, protracted sound of Big Ben that reminded them of their honeymoon in London.
Jonah kept the stick out of reach. “Tell me, Ilena, if you’re this fixated on a baby that’s not even here, what’s going to happen when it is? Where will we be?”
“Right here. As parents, just like we’ve always wanted.”
“But we haven’t. Shit, I’m to blame for all this. I’m the one who brought it up.” He ran his hand through his hair, separating the increasing strands of gray. “Do you ever wonder if maybe this isn’t the right choice? If it’s all worth it?”
“Are you saying you don’t want this anymore?”
Big Ben played again, and Jonah’s eyes darted to the open bathroom door. “What would happen if I didn’t? Who would you choose?”
Jonah held out his hands, one extended for her to take, the other home to the pregnancy stick.
This wasn’t fair, and he knew it. She grabbed the pregnancy stick, and her heart sank.
Jonah was already out the door, lobbing a “You’re replacing my ‘Bottle of the Year.’”
