Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
The second time he appeared without even a text, he had volunteered for me to host Thanksgiving dinner for both of our families at our apartment. It was overly crowded and awkward and most of my food undercooked – something his parents repeatedly mentioned without hesitation. I’m not a huge cook as it is – which sucks because my mom is basically a black Martha Stewart minus the whole insider trading thing – and the added pressure of the holiday didn’t exactly help those skills get better.
If he’s here in the middle of the morning, it means he’s made another major life decision without discussing it with me first.
Or maybe I’m hallucinating?
Maybe this is some weird, twisted daydream I need to bitch slap myself out of?
“Sir,” Merrick politely greets him with a nod, proving this isn’t probably a delusion I can Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo the fuck out of.
Xander gives my employee a long, hard glance that prompts me to momentarily think he might be jealous. “Are you finished speaking with Miss Morrison?”
Wow.
Not even “my girlfriend”.
Not surprised even though I wish I was.
Merrick quickly nods and shoots me a wink. “See you later, boss lady.”
“Bye,” I retort seconds prior to my employee shutting the door behind him. Mustering up a smile is damn near impossible. “This is…an unexpected surprise.”
“All surprises by definition are unexpected.”
“Please tell me you didn’t come all the way to my office to give me an English lesson.”
He shoves his hands into his pockets while he remains standing. “I came to tell you I have news.”
Dread drags itself down my flesh. “Oh?”
“Dr. Swanson called. They can get me in on Friday.”
“For what?”
“For my vasectomy.”
Completely blindsided, I force my mouth to stop twitching to inquire, “For your…For your…For your what?!”
“My vasectomy,” he announces as if he were informing me that he just switched car insurance rather than that he’s having major life altering surgery.
This.
This is exactly the shit I hate about him.
While I was actively avoiding face to face moments with him this weekend, I allowed my mind to rip him to shreds whenever thoughts of him infiltrated the others.
Let’s start with his looks, which are not something I’ve ever truly been attracted to. He’s runner thin, has a dark Boy Scout haircut, and refuses to let his five o’clock shadow appear on his slender face for longer than a day.
He’s very routine based, something I can appreciate given my understanding of its importance in building blocks of success, especially with children, but it’s often overkill. I mean he even has assigned days for the color of socks he wears.
Who the fuck does that?!
Why am I with someone who does that?!
“You know I don't want kids, Presley.” Xander shifts his weight from side to side. “This will prevent that from occurring.”
Cravings for the crackers I know are in my bottom desk drawer increase exponentially, but I keep my frame put. Stare on his. Fingers wound together to prevent from caving. “You made this decision without me?”
“Yes.”
“Okay but shouldn’t this be an ‘us’ topic?”
“Why?” The perplexity on his face is vexing. “Do I interfere with the choices you make about your body?”
“No, but-”
“Am I not pro-choice? Do I not believe a woman’s body is hers to command?”
“You do, but-”
“Then why would I feel any different about myself?”
Salivation for something to soothe my nerves starts to rise forcing me to swallow it down before asking, “Isn’t this just a little different than that?”
“How do you figure?”
“It would be like me abruptly stopping the pill-”
“Which I would support-”
“In order to get pregnant.”
“Which I would not.” His expression grows sterner. Scolding. “We use multiple methods to prevent that from happening, Presley. I don’t wear a condom, use spermicide, and pull out because I enjoy it.”
God, how can he make even that sound clinical and boring?
“I do it because I do not want children.”
“Yeah, but what if I do!?”
“Do you?”
“I don’t know! Maybe? Someday? Possibly?” All the answers that are not a definite no roll around my tongue until I croak out, “What if you change your mind somewhere down the line? What if all of a sudden you want kids and you’ve gone and done this?”
“There’s always adoption, which logically makes more sense for the two of us anyway. We would be better suited to adopt an older child who is ready for school that requires less hours and attention than that of an infant.”
My mouth falls yet no words fall free.
“Between your job and mine, starting a family is not a probable desire, especially with the retirement plan I’m currently on.”
Discontent pushes me back into my seat.
“My appointment is Friday morning. It’s an outpatient procedure. Very simple from what I was told during the consultation I had.”
“When the fuck was that?!”
“Last Tuesday.”
Speechlessness occurs once more.
“I’m aware you’ll be working, so I’ve arranged for my mother to drop me off and pick me up as to not disrupt your day. She has nothing else on her calendar.”