Page 76 of Making the Save
“No,” I snapped. “I get tested once a year as part of the team physical and I always, always, wear a condom.”
“Well, notalways, always.”
Was this her joking? “Again, Syd. Too. Soon.”
Our fries were delivered to our table and she dug in with a fork, getting lots of cheese and fries and gravy in one bite. She put it in her mouth and closed her eyes like someone was going down on her in the shower.
“Syd,” I hissed, keeping my voice low. “We didn’t use a condom. Please tell me, despite the fact that you haven’t been having sex, that you’re on some form of birth control.”
“Uh, no. I got one of those shots back when I was eighteen, but I had really bad side effects from it.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Okay, let’s not panic.”
“Wyatt, you didn’t…you know…in…you know.”
“Oh geezus,” I groaned. “First, you need to start using the words. You can’t have sex unless you can say sex words. No, I didn’t come in your vagina, but if you took biology in high school, then surely someone explained the dangers of precum.”
“You’re telling me your precum is dangerous?”
“Tink,” I growled with my best don’t fuck with me voice.
Her shoulders slumped. “Okay, I’ll admit I wasn’t thinking about birth control, that’s for sure.”
No, she was completely focused on losing her virginity and I was completely focused on her.
“Just so we’re clear, this is on me,” I said. “I’m the one who is responsible. There is no excuse for not grabbing a condom the second I stepped into the cabin.”
“Shouldn’t it be on both of us?”
“Let me take the blame,” I said.
“Okay. I’ll blame you, your dangerous precum and your way too big penis. How about that for sex words?” She winked at me before putting another bite of poutine in her mouth.
“It’s not too big,” I tried to explain. “You weren’t ready …doesn’t matter. The point is, now we have to wait and see if you’re pregnant. Before we even consider any kind of separation or divorce.”
God, the truth was, I hadn’t been thinking about separation or divorce.
“And if I’m pregnant?” she asked.
I gotta build the loft and we have to get those headphones for the baby when I take them to concerts. I’ll definitely have to retire…
Then I remembered those songs. The album she had to record and the way that woman in the store responded to her. She was young and a kid was probably not what she wanted right now.
“Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it,” I said and she nodded.
“Until then, you’re still my husband,” she said and took another bite of the poutine. I grabbed my fork and got in there before she ate it all.
“Yeah,” I said, sensing she was working on some angle.
“Then as your wife, before we go back to the cabin, can we hit up a Target and get some throw pillows and blankets for the new couch? Just a couple of accent items. It’s what a good husband would do.”
“A good husband, huh?”
She beamed. “Yeah, for his wife.”
I didn’t want to think about how much I liked that. How it made sense in my life. That vision of a baby. The R word didn’t even hurt anymore.
Retire.See. Not an ounce of pain. In fact, if I was being honest, the thought was almost…a relief.