“Then who?”
“Myself.” He reaches for my hand and draws it into his lap.
“Why?”
“Because we should have talked about things before we jumped into marriage.”
“I thought we did.”
“Yeah. But there’s one thing we didn’t talk about.”
I wait for him to gather his thoughts because he won’t look at me.
“I don’t want kids, Hana.Ever.”
It feels like that came out of nowhere and I cock my head. “I see.”
“You needed to marry me so you wouldn’t have to leave the country in a few days, and I was happy to help out, but I should have taken into consideration this thing between us. The chemistry. I thought we could take it slow, see what happens, and maybe it could turn into a real marriage. But then…”
Now I know what’s going on.
“Then we had the conversation the other night where I said I wanted kids someday.”
“Yeah.”
“And you don’t want them ever?”
“No. The genetics in my family are… terrible. Addiction, abuse, mental health problems. Knowingly passing that on to a kid feels wrong.”
“Kids aren’t even on my radar,” I say slowly. “They’re this distant concept that I can’t quite wrap my head around. Do I want them? In theory, the answer is yes. But in practice, I don’t know.”
“I had a vasectomy two years ago,” he says quietly. “So it’s not an option.”
“Oh.”
I knew this was a marriage of convenience, but he made it seem like we could spend time getting to know each other and potentially making it real.
Now I feel confused, let down, and frustrated.
“I’m sorry.” He looks frustrated too. “I should have told you that in the beginning.”
“It’s fine.”
What else can I say?
“This wasn’t a love match,” I continue. “You did me a huge favor and I had no expectations.”
“But I gave you some. We decided to get to know each other, maybe become intimate. And I should have talked to you about my situation before we went down that road.”
“Well, the good news is, we haven’t gone down any roads yet, so it’s not a big deal. We can keep this platonic. I’m going to be sending out resumes and hopefully going on job interviews while you’re away, so maybe we can end this before the year is over.”
There’s a strange look on his face as I say that, but then it’s gone, and his expression goes back to neutral.
“That’s probably best.” He nods. “I’m sorry if I misled you, Hana.”
“It’s not a big deal.” It is, but I won’t admit it out loud. What’s the point in making him feel bad? He’s still doing me a huge favor by giving me a chance to stay in the US, so I’ll always be grateful for that.
“We still have to be careful in public,” he says after a moment. “I don’t know how strict the league is with visas for domestic partners but I don’t think we can let people know the truth.”