“That was partly a joke,” I say.
“Partly,” she agrees. “What was the other part?”
I hesitate, because this is where things get inconvenient.
“I didn’t want to complicate things,” I say. “At home. With Christa. With myself.”
“And what would complicating things look like?”
I rub the back of my neck. “Feelings. Boundaries. Me doing what I always do and pretending I’m fine until I’m not.”
Pee-Pee watches me for a moment, then says, “You’re very aware of her impact on you.”
I scoff. “She’s hard to ignore. She steals my food.”
She smiles, then lets the humour pass. “I’m not asking you to label anything,” she says. “I’m just noticing that when you talk about dating, Christa is part of the picture.”
I swallow. “She lives in my house.”
“Yes,” Pee-Pee says. “And she lives in your head.”
That lands. I don’t love it.
“I’m not secretly pining after her,” I say quickly. “Before you go there.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she replies calmly. “I’m asking what role she plays for you right now.”
“She grounds me,” I say slowly. “She calls me out. She makes me laugh. She makes things… real.”
Pee-Pee nods. “And how does that affect dating?”
I exhale. “It raises the bar.”
“In what way?”
“I’m less inclined to drift,” I say. “Less willing to go along with something just because it’s there. If I’m going to let someone into that space, they have to add something.”
I hesitate, then say it plainly because dressing it up would be ridiculous. “We’re sharing a baby. Biologically. Practically. Completely.”
Pee-Pee’s expression softens, just a fraction.
“That changes things,” she says.
“It does,” I reply. “Anyone I date isn’t just entering my life. They’re entering hers too. And eventually the baby’s. That’s not something I can treat casually, even if I wanted to.”
She nods. “Christa’s opinion matters?”
“Yes,” I say. “Not because she gets veto power or because I need permission, but because this isn’t happening in isolation. I don’t get to pretend it’s just about chemistry and convenience anymore.”
“And how does that sit with you?”
I snort quietly. “Uncomfortably. Like I’ve been promoted without training.”
She smiles. “That sounds about right.”
“But it also means,” I continue, “I’m not willing to half-arse it. I don’t want to date someone just because it’s easy or expected. If I’m doing this, it has to be intentional.”
“And Sophia?”
