Page 26 of Consummation

“What?”

“You look like you’re about to barf.”

I exhale.

Kat waves her hand dismissively, anger once again rising in her face. “Forget it. I’m not gonna be the gold-digging whore who proves your asshole-father right and traps you into marital bondage. I don’t want your fucking money or your goddamned name and I certainly don’t wanna force you to say something you’re not genuinely feeling. Give me whatever to sign and I’ll sign it, saying I don’t want your freaking money and that you’re only obligated to take care of your kid and nothing more.” Tears prick her eyes.

“Kat, I don’t think you’re a gold digger,” I say softly. “I’ve never thought that about you, not for a minute. I know you forgot to take your pill by accident.”

“It’s okay, Josh. Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’ll keep going the way we are and see where this thing leads—which, if I were placing bets after this conversation, looks to be nowhere—but who knows? And when the baby comes, we’ll see where things stand between us—if we’re even talking to each other by then—and we’ll figure our shit out from there, one day at a time.” She glares at me with glistening eyes.

“Kat, listen to me. Just gimme a minute to absorb the situation. Maybe I’m not saying all the right words, but my heart’s in the right place.”

“No, you’reheartisn’t remotely involved in this conversation—that’s the problem.”

“Kat,” I say softly. If my heart’s not involved in this conversation, like she says, then why does it feel like it’s shattering?

“It’s okay, Josh,” Kat says. “I’ve had a lot more time to process the situation than you have—a full week. Take your time. Think and regroup.”

“You’ve known for a week?” I ask.

“Yeah, I barfed right after I got home from the karaoke bar, so I took a pregnancy test.”

“You found out the night of the karaoke bar?”

She nods.

“Shit.” I shake my head, remembering myself holding a goddamned boom box over my head in front of her apartment building. “I came over that night—I wanted to apologize to you.”

“Yeah. I got your text,” Kat says softly. “I couldn’t come out. I was too much of a wreck.”

My heart is aching. Kat obviously has no idea I stood out in front of her apartment with a boom box, ready to hand her my dick and balls in a baggie.

“Kat,” I say. “Fuck what I said about marriage being pointless, okay? All bets are off. You’re pregnant with my baby. We should get married.Please.”

Kat shakes her head.

I throw up my hands, suddenly exasperated with her. “Goddammit. I don’t know what you expect from me. You’ve totally blindsided me here, Kat.” I look up at the ceiling, begging God for patience, and then level her with pleading eyes. “Kat, think about what you’re doing. You’re turning down an offer of marriage from the father of your child—who, lucky for you, happens to beme.”

Kat scoffs. “Oh, now I’m the ‘lucky one’?”

I throw up my hands. What the hell is she holding out for? Some sort of fairytale? Some knight on a white horse, whisking her off into the sunset? “I’m sorry my proposal isn’t fulfilling your girlhood fantasies,” I say caustically. “But maybe it’s time to stop dreaming about being Cinderella and get real. This is as good as it’s gonna get under the circumstances.”

Kat glares at me for a long beat, her eyes full of homicidal rage. “Fuck you,” she finally spits out. “‘Get real’? ‘As good as it’s gonna get’? Fuck you, you arrogant little prick. I deserve the fairytale, whetherI’m knocked up or not, you motherfucking asshole-douche-prick-fuckwad.” She glares at me and flips her golden hair behind her shoulder. “I’m Julia Roberts inPretty Woman,” she says. “And I’m not gonna settle for, ‘Oh, fuck it, we might as well get married,’ simply because Ihappento be a street-walker in thigh-high boots and youhappento be Mr. Darcy.” She juts her chin at me. “Let me be really clear about something, Josh: I. Don’t. Care. About. Your. Freaking. Money.”

I blink rapidly, completely floored.

“Yes, I’m impregnated with your mighty Faraday spawn,” Kat continues, still seething, “which, according to you, is a hugewinfor me—from anevolutionarystandpoint, I suppose.” She scoffs. “But I’m here to tell you, Joshua, evolution is no reason for me to marry a man who doesn’t actuallywantto marry me.”

We stare at each other for a long, angry beat. Yet again, she’s obviously waiting for me to say something very specific. But she can wait for-fucking-ever as far as I’m concerned. She’s crossed a fucking line and I’m fucking done. I ask her to marry me and she calls me a fuckwad? Fuck this shit. She’s right. This is a horrible idea. We’re obviously fundamentally incompatible. God help me if I were to marry this batshit crazy woman and be stuck with her for eternity—I’d quite literally go insane.

“Well,” Kat says primly, filling the excruciating silence. “I just wanted to come out here and tell you about Colby. I didn’t intend to tell you about the pregnancy. Sorry. It just slipped out.”

I suppress an eye-roll.

Kat narrows her eyes, shooting daggers at me. “Let’s just take some time and regroup,” she says stiffly. “Starting right now.”

I exhale with exasperation. “Have you told your family yet?”