“Yes.”
“Given I don’t think you’re a particularly spendy sort, I want you to tell me what it costs, and I will cover it.”
“I don’t want to be a kept woman. I’ve worked my ass off?—”
“Well, I’m the one who got you pregnant. I have means. I want our child raised in a nice, safe home and I want his mother to be well-taken-care-of even if we’re not together.”
“Oh my God, the savior complex on you!”
“It’s not that. I mean, maybe a little. I’m me. I’m going to provide for you because I can and it’s the right thing to do, but it’s also because happy mothers have happy babies and well-adjusted kids. We both want that, don’t we?”
The rant was never-ending.
“You can think I’m a classist prick, but money makes life easier. Has no one ever taken care of you before? This is not a gift. It is support for our child.”
Our food arrived. I sat, thoughts milling. Why was I so bothered by his desire to spend money? Mona spoiled me. I never told hernotto. I lived in our nice house in a beautiful neighborhood. I ate at good restaurants. I wore the clothes she bought happily. So, why now was it different?
“It’s because you’re a man, I guess. I don’t… it always feels like a transaction. It gives me the ick. You’re a prince. I’m a peasant. The imbalance of power isn’t just about class, either. You are myboss, Davey.”
“I know, I know. But I don’t think about it like that.”
“That’s because you’re the king of the hill. You don’t fuckinghaveto, David. I do. And when this news comes out, we both will.”
Davey
After breakfast, we milled through stalls at the farmer’s market, trying to relate, I couldn’t help but feel alone. Eva had no place to live, no car, no childcare plans, and she wouldn’t compromise. Last night, I gave her vulnerability, and she trusted me. Now, she dug her heels in. As I was about to ask what it was she needed, she rubbed her temples and stopped. An admission came that changed the tenor of our conversation.
“Look, I don’t want to agree to much right now. I’m frightened it’s a bad omen. And while you probably would see it ending prematurely as a blessing in disguise… I don’t.”
“I don’t feel that way. I’m invested,” I said. “It would be worse for you, I’m sure. But for me, it would hurt, too. You’re afraid to hear the worst?”
She nodded as tears welled. “Two weeks. Two more weeks to know if this can continue.”
“Is this when you got the news last time?” I asked.
Eva’s voice grew small, “Yes.”
Unexpectedly, she hugged me. I wrapped her in my arms. She cried—losing herself in public. I thought by planning, I was being a grownup and proving she could trust me. Instead, I pushed buttons. Every attempt threw salt in her wounds.
I rubbed her back. “I am sorry. I pushed.”
“You didn’t know,” Eva murmured.
“I know now. You can tell me anything about what happened if it helps.”
“All you should know was that at the scan—alone—I found out the pregnancy was unviable. There was no heartbeat. I scheduled surgery to end the pregnancy without my ex’s support. And when I told her, she said it was for the best. She told me she didn’t love me anymore.”
I pulled back. “Eva, baby, that is… cruel. No one deserves that. I will be there. If you want Ellie there, too, I understand it.”
“Ellie cannot make it. She has got to be back home for a teacher’s meeting. She told me last week.”
“I will be there if it kills me.”
“Thanks.”
I cupped her face. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re burdening me. We’re doing this together. I have no idea what you need from me most of the time, but don’t feel bad for asking. If I cannot do it, I will tell you, but have I told you no yet?”
“No.”