Page 57 of Reinventing Cato
“You’re not staying,” Cato snapped. “Leave it on.”
Max ignored him, tossed his coat on the bed, and sat next to it. “Can’t you do better than this place? Why did you move?”
Cato didn’t answer.
Max sighed. “Louise wants a baby. More than wants. She’s desperate.”
Cato stopped spinning the chair.Ohh.“Right.” He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. “And you don’t?”
“I want one too.”
“What’s the problem then?”
Max rubbed his chin and looked straight at Cato. “Turns out I’m infertile.”
Oh shit.“Ah. Permanently?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry.” He was. He and Max hadn’t got as far as discussing kids, but Max came from a big family and Cato knew he liked children. There seemed no point making any suggestions, such as adopt, because he guessed he and Louise had already gone through every possibility. Max was always thorough.
“What was Louise’s reaction?”
Max huffed. “Relieved it’s not her fault, particularly because she’s been blaming herself.”
“But you’ve not been trying that long.”
“Since the night you left.”
“Oh.”Bitch!
“Time isn’t on her side. She didn’t want to wait. Now she’s sad, disappointed, pissed off and feeling frantic.”
She was forty. A couple of years older than Max and seven years older than Cato.
“Think you could make me a cup of tea with two sugars?” Max asked. “I’m a bit shaky. I think my blood sugar’s low.”
“Sure.” Max was looking a bit wan and sweaty. He had diabetes and despite his thoroughness in every other aspect of his life, he wasn’t as careful as he should be about looking after himself. Staving off a hypoglycaemic episode would avoid a prolonged visit that Cato could do without, so he hurried downstairs, put the kettle on, and grabbed a couple of biscuits for good measure.
Sam and Pedro were still in the kitchen but wisely kept quiet. They both knew about Max and Louise because Cato had been drunk one night shortly after he’d moved in, and said more than he should have.
Cato took the drink and biscuits upstairs, and sat back on his chair.
“Thanks.” Max took a bite of a biscuit, then sipped the tea. “We’ve been trying. Not even worrying at first. Then Louise decided we couldn’t wait any longer. It’s not been a very pleasant process.” He looked up at Cato and gave a strained smile. “They literallydogive you some old porn magazine and a beaker. I thought, timing is everything here. If I come out with the sample too soon, they’ll think I have premature ejaculation. Too slow and they’ll think I couldn’t get it up. Turns out I have plenty of sperm, but none of them are champion swimmers. I was shocked how much it hurt.”
“I can guess. I’m sorry.” Cato might be pissed off with Max but he still cared about him, how could he not? Otherwise, it would be denying all there had once been between them.
Max finished one biscuit and started the other. Why was he here? What did he want? Then Cato got it.Oh no. Please don’t let me be right.
Max put down his tea, dropped to his knees at Cato’s side and grabbed his hands. “Come back to us. We can make it work. Give Louise a baby. Your baby. Our child. I want you, Cato. I should never have let you go.”
Cato wrenched free, pushed to his feet and crossed the room to lean against the wardrobe. His hands were shaking and he stuffed them into his pockets.
“We could use donor sperm, but we’d both like you to be the father. Not just like. Wewantyou to be the father. You’re highly intelligent, good-looking. Your genes are better than we could hope for, but it’s not just that. It’s a way to cement the three of us together.”
Are you crazy?There was no mending what had so catastrophically broken. You didn’t use children to do that.Not my kids.“No,” Cato said quietly. “We’re over.”
“Please, Cato.”
