“I hope everything’s okay.”
“I hope so, too,” he says.
The pregnancy wasn’t planned from what I’ve gathered, but after meeting Bernie and seeing Misty and Zep together, they seem like perfect parents. The type who deserve a big, happy family.
“Can I ask you something without making you angry?” I ask.
“It would take a lot to make me mad at you, Yellow Crayon.”
Running his fingers through my hair seems to be his favorite thing to do when we’re together and not naked. “It’s about Queenie.”
He tenses beneath me, and I know he’s getting sick of my jealousy. “What about her?”
“Do you wear… condoms… with her?”
“What?”
Leaning up, I look at his face, making out the scar on his cheek in the moonlight. “You’ve never worn one with me. I saw the basket at the brothel, but you were really only with her, so—”
“Every time,” he says. “The only person I’ve gone without one with is you. And Jo.”
That makes me feel better, and I settle back down. “Okay.”
“Do you think you might be pregnant?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m not. I… no. No.”
“But you were worried about whether I was putting you at risk?”
“I know you wouldn’t, but I’m not as experienced as you. It was just a question.”
He sighs, and I worry I’ve ruined the happy little bubble we’re in. Maybe anger wasn’t what I should be worried about. He seems disappointed instead.
“I’m not a saint,” he admits. “I made my way through quite a few women before I got sick of the emotional backlash. Mostcouldn’t handle that it was only a night or two at most. But I’ve always been careful.”
“Is it weird that I feel kind of special?”
Chuckling, he kisses the top of my head. “You are, Yellow Crayon. Believe me.”
“You’re the first person who has ever made it sound endearing. Most people wanted to change me. Told me I was annoying or too much for being so different.”
“Never,” he whispers. “But you’re sure you’re not worried about being pregnant? I can start covering my shit if you want.”
“It’s just you and me, right? So I’m fine.”
His fingers massage my scalp, and I just relish the silent comfortability between us. I’ve never found someone I can justbewith.
“Do you want kids someday, Phoebe?”
Well, shit. I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut. This was bound to come up sooner or later. “No.”
“No?”
I’m glad we’re in the dark so there’s not the option to look into his eyes. “I actually, uh, got my tubes tied. I had a pretty bad panic attack when I missed my period with one of my exes, so my therapist suggested it.”
“She referred you because of a panic attack?”
“I almost had to be admitted to the hospital. It honestly felt like a heart attack. Like I was dying. But it’s non-negotiable for me. I’ve just seen too much bad to feel comfortable bringing a child into the world.”
