Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 132464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
A lump rises in my throat. Is Kat right? Is my father still controlling me, even after all these years, even from the grave?
There’s a long beat, during which Typhoid Joe hacks up his tenth lung of the night.
“Josh,” Kat says softly after Typhoid Joe quiets down. She puts her hand on mine in a gesture of tenderness, making my heart pang. “If it weren’t for this baby growing inside me, you wouldn’t even be thinking of asking me to marry you. Today when you introduced me to your friends at flag football was the first time you ever called me your girlfriend—which I really liked, by the way.”
“Kat, please just say yes,” I whisper, despair overtaking me. She’s pregnant and I’m proposing. Why won’t she say yes?
“Thank you, Josh. I really appreciate the offer,” Kat says, her tone surprisingly sweet. “But how are you gonna vow to be my husband ’til death do us part when you haven’t even told me something as simple as ‘I love you’?” She looks at me pointedly, like she’s willing those three words to come out of my mouth right this very minute.
I run my hand through my hair. Shit. I should say it. I’ve never felt this way about any woman before. I’m addicted to her in every way. I’m ninety-nine percent sure what I’m feeling for Kat is what normal people call love—which means I should say the goddamned words. I open my mouth and close it again. Fuck.
Kat scoffs. “I know turnabout is fair play and all, but please don’t barf on me.”
“What?”
“You look like you’re about to barf.”
I exhale.
Kat waves her hand dismissively, anger once again rising in her face. “Forget it. I’m not gonna be the gold-digging whore who proves your asshole-father right and traps you into marital bondage. I don’t want your fucking money or your goddamned name and I certainly don’t wanna force you to say something you’re not genuinely feeling. Give me whatever to sign and I’ll sign it, saying I don’t want your freaking money and that you’re only obligated to take care of your kid and nothing more.” Tears prick her eyes.
“Kat, I don’t think you’re a gold digger,” I say softly. “I’ve never thought that about you, not for a minute. I know you forgot to take your pill by accident.”
“It’s okay, Josh. Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’ll keep going the way we are and see where this thing leads—which, if I were placing bets after this conversation, looks to be nowhere—but who knows? And when the baby comes, we’ll see where things stand between us—if we’re even talking to each other by then—and we’ll figure our shit out from there, one day at a time.” She glares at me with glistening eyes.
“Kat, listen to me. Just gimme a minute to absorb the situation. Maybe I’m not saying all the right words, but my heart’s in the right place.”
“No, you’re heart isn’t remotely involved in this conversation—that’s the problem.”
“Kat,” I say softly. If my heart’s not involved in this conversation, like she says, then why does it feel like it’s shattering?
“It’s okay, Josh,” Kat says. “I’ve had a lot more time to process the situation than you have—a full week. Take your time. Think and regroup.”
“You’ve known for a week?” I ask.
“Yeah, I barfed right after I got home from the karaoke bar, so I took a pregnancy test.”
“You found out the night of the karaoke bar?”
She nods.
“Shit.” I shake my head, remembering myself holding a goddamned boom box over my head in front of her apartment building. “I came over that night—I wanted to apologize to you.”
“Yeah. I got your text,” Kat says softly. “I couldn’t come out. I was too much of a wreck.”
My heart is aching. Kat obviously has no idea I stood out in front of her apartment with a boom box, ready to hand her my dick and balls in a baggie.
“Kat,” I say. “Fuck what I said about marriage being pointless, okay? All bets are off. You’re pregnant with my baby. We should get married. Please.”
Kat shakes her head.
I throw up my hands, suddenly exasperated with her. “Goddammit. I don’t know what you expect from me. You’ve totally blindsided me here, Kat.” I look up at the ceiling, begging God for patience, and then level her with pleading eyes. “Kat, think about what you’re doing. You’re turning down an offer of marriage from the father of your child—who, lucky for you, happens to be me.”
Kat scoffs. “Oh, now I’m the ‘lucky one’?”
I throw up my hands. What the hell is she holding out for? Some sort of fairytale? Some knight on a white horse, whisking her off into the sunset? “I’m sorry my proposal isn’t fulfilling your girlhood fantasies,” I say caustically. “But maybe it’s time to stop dreaming about being Cinderella and get real. This is as good as it’s gonna get under the circumstances.”