message of love and desire. It was a look I now dreaded to see on her face. I knew she still had feelings for me. I knew she wanted more. But I didn’t feel the same anymore, and I wasn’t sure how many times I could tell her that before she believed me.
“Des—” I began.
“I’ll have a small decaf Caffé Americano with skim milk please and a chocolate croissant,” she said brightly to the barista, cutting me off.
I shook my head and turned to the barista, “Just a large coffee.” I pulled out my credit card and handed it to the barista.
Des smiled up at me, “Thanks, hun. You’re always such a gentleman.”
I rolled my eyes as we moved over to the end of the counter to collect our drinks.
“Des, I have a busy day at work, so I can’t stay long,” I lied. “Can you please tell me what’s going on?” I asked as we sat down at a small corner table.
“Jeez, you’re such a buzzkill. Fine.” Her expression changed and became more serious. “ Well, I didn’t just come to SF this past weekend to visit some family like I told you Saturday. I needed to tell you something.” She sounded hesitant.
“ How come you didn’t say anything on Saturday?”
She thought about it for a second before responding. “Well, with that whole thing with Emma running off, I didn’t want to bring it up.”
“Okay, so w hat is it that you need to tell me?” I felt anxiety ripple through me. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, it’s … it’s okay. It’s nothing bad really. It’s about us.”
“I’m not following, Des.” I sighed. “We’ve had this discussion before. There isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. I’m not sure how to make that more clear to you. We broke up years ago.”
“Well that didn’t stop us from—”
“Stop it, Des. Let’s not go there. I really don’t have time to play 20 Questions right now. I’m already late for work. Do you really need to tell me something?” Frustration tapped against my patience, and I waited for her answer.
“Brandon, this is not a conversation I want to have when I’m rushed,” she said defiantly.
“Des, please listen. We can’t keep doing this every time we see each other. I can’t be your friend if you act like this, especially now that I’m in a relationship. I don’t want to hurt you, but I need you to start listening to me. I’m with Emma. I want to be with Emma.” For a brief moment, I saw the pain in Des’s eyes and I wondered if I was too harsh on her.
“Well maybe you’ll change your mind after you hear what I have to say.” There was something in Desiree’s voice that made me uneasy.
“Then tell me. What is it that you need to say to me?” I looked at my watch. I was tempted to just leave the coffee shop now, but guilt kept me rooted in my chair.
“Brandon, this is not easy to say …” She looked down at her coffee and avoided my eyes.
I felt my impatience grow, and as I got up and began to say, “Okay, I’m going to get going,” she said, “Brandon, I’m pregnant.”
I felt myself fall back onto my chair as shock paralyzed me. The room seemed to close in on me as I struggled to breathe. “You—you’re what? Pregnant?” I looked at her in disbelief.
She nodded, but said nothing.
My mind raced. I had so many questions, but couldn’t seem to say them out loud, as if asking them aloud would make them come true.
Several minutes must have gone by when I finally said, “Is it mine?”
Des looked affronted. “Of course it’s yours,” she hissed. “How could you even ask that?”
“But—but it was just that one time,” I stammered, trying d esperately to think clearly.
“ Well, it only takes that one time. Plus, we were both too drunk to use a condom.”
She was right. I was so drunk that night, I had blacked out. I couldn’t remember using a condom. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you sure it’s mine?”
“Fuck you, Brandon! Of course it’s yours. I haven’t been with anyone else. You know
“Des—” I began.
“I’ll have a small decaf Caffé Americano with skim milk please and a chocolate croissant,” she said brightly to the barista, cutting me off.
I shook my head and turned to the barista, “Just a large coffee.” I pulled out my credit card and handed it to the barista.
Des smiled up at me, “Thanks, hun. You’re always such a gentleman.”
I rolled my eyes as we moved over to the end of the counter to collect our drinks.
“Des, I have a busy day at work, so I can’t stay long,” I lied. “Can you please tell me what’s going on?” I asked as we sat down at a small corner table.
“Jeez, you’re such a buzzkill. Fine.” Her expression changed and became more serious. “ Well, I didn’t just come to SF this past weekend to visit some family like I told you Saturday. I needed to tell you something.” She sounded hesitant.
“ How come you didn’t say anything on Saturday?”
She thought about it for a second before responding. “Well, with that whole thing with Emma running off, I didn’t want to bring it up.”
“Okay, so w hat is it that you need to tell me?” I felt anxiety ripple through me. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, it’s … it’s okay. It’s nothing bad really. It’s about us.”
“I’m not following, Des.” I sighed. “We’ve had this discussion before. There isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. I’m not sure how to make that more clear to you. We broke up years ago.”
“Well that didn’t stop us from—”
“Stop it, Des. Let’s not go there. I really don’t have time to play 20 Questions right now. I’m already late for work. Do you really need to tell me something?” Frustration tapped against my patience, and I waited for her answer.
“Brandon, this is not a conversation I want to have when I’m rushed,” she said defiantly.
“Des, please listen. We can’t keep doing this every time we see each other. I can’t be your friend if you act like this, especially now that I’m in a relationship. I don’t want to hurt you, but I need you to start listening to me. I’m with Emma. I want to be with Emma.” For a brief moment, I saw the pain in Des’s eyes and I wondered if I was too harsh on her.
“Well maybe you’ll change your mind after you hear what I have to say.” There was something in Desiree’s voice that made me uneasy.
“Then tell me. What is it that you need to say to me?” I looked at my watch. I was tempted to just leave the coffee shop now, but guilt kept me rooted in my chair.
“Brandon, this is not easy to say …” She looked down at her coffee and avoided my eyes.
I felt my impatience grow, and as I got up and began to say, “Okay, I’m going to get going,” she said, “Brandon, I’m pregnant.”
I felt myself fall back onto my chair as shock paralyzed me. The room seemed to close in on me as I struggled to breathe. “You—you’re what? Pregnant?” I looked at her in disbelief.
She nodded, but said nothing.
My mind raced. I had so many questions, but couldn’t seem to say them out loud, as if asking them aloud would make them come true.
Several minutes must have gone by when I finally said, “Is it mine?”
Des looked affronted. “Of course it’s yours,” she hissed. “How could you even ask that?”
“But—but it was just that one time,” I stammered, trying d esperately to think clearly.
“ Well, it only takes that one time. Plus, we were both too drunk to use a condom.”
She was right. I was so drunk that night, I had blacked out. I couldn’t remember using a condom. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you sure it’s mine?”
“Fuck you, Brandon! Of course it’s yours. I haven’t been with anyone else. You know
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