Page 102 of Pregnant By the Playboy
“Wait a week, like she asked,” Julian continues, “then see what she says.”
“A week feels like forever,” I groan.
“The melodrama. Save me.”
“She said she doesn’t love me. I told her it was because I’d never be able to live up to the image of her dad she’d created in her mind. She started crying.”
“Look, I understand being entirely sure about someone, even when it hasn’t been very long. But it really hasn’t been long, and maybe it takes her time to fall in love. Hopefully she’ll give you more time, and then you can be there for her. Be patient.”
“We’re having a baby together.”
“You don’t need to have everything perfectly arranged by then.”
“I don’t think you’d cope well with that,” I tell Julian.
“You may be right. But you love Marissa. Think about what she needs, not what you need, and find something to do with your time rather than obsessing about this.”
“You know I won’t be able to help that.”
“But still. Try. Don’t just sleep and play videogames all day.”
“Marissa says I need to find something to do with my life, other than being a parent. Not a career like what I had before. Just...something.”
“Marissa has a point.”
“Yes,” Cedric says, “I agree.”
“She feels like being the center of my universe is too much pressure.”
“Well,” Julian says, “I’m sure she’ll be the center of your universe, but it’s healthy to have multiple interests, and you’ve told me before that you’re bored. So, find something.”
“As if it’s that easy.” I try to sit up, but my body hurts. My mind hurts. I lie back down. “She suggested the TCCC, but other than giving money, there’s only so much I can do without speaking any useful language.”
“You could learn.”
“Yeah, thank you, Mr. I-speak-five-languages-fluently.”
“Six.”
“Whatever. I’m utter shit at languages, as you know.”
My stomach growls. I haven’t eaten anything since this morning, under that blasted blooming cherry tree.
“Let’s order some food,” Cedric suggests. “Yang’s Dumplings?”
“No. Not that.”
“How can you not be in the mood for dumplings?”
“I’m not in the mood for anything.”
“Vince,” Julian says sternly.
“Marissa and I had Yang’s Dumplings together. Let’s have pizza instead.”
Then I remember that first weekend, when we ate cold pizza.
Fuck it. I have to eat something. Pizza it is.
