I find none of this funny.
“There’s no booty call and no guy,” she assures me.
This should make me feel better, but it only leaves me even more confused.
Amusement fills her expression. “You can have a baby without having sex, Gunnar.”
I blink at that response. Ellie is one of the smartest people I know, but she’s also naive and inexperienced, which I have always been content with. However, I am not so sure that has been the best thing for her after what just came out of her mouth.
“Here, let me show you.” Reaching into her bag, she pulls out a pamphlet and hands it to me.
Taking it from her, I read the cover that says: Plan your future. Be a parent. Be a donor.
What—the—fuck?
“It’s called in vitro fertilization,” she goes on to explain. “It’s a procedure that I’ve been looking into for quite some time now.” Taking the pamphlet back, she opens it and begins explaining the pictures. “How it works is they take my egg and combine it with sperm from a donor. Then, they place it in my uterus for me to become pregnant.” She finishes the explanation with a smile as if it’s completely fucking normal for us to be talking about eggs, sperm, and her uterus.
If I wasn’t staring into her light hazel eyes right now, I’d swear I was just sucked up into the fucking twilight zone.
She clears her throat, shifting at my silence. “Told you you’d be shocked.”
“Shocked?” I choke out, struggling to speak past the grip on my throat. “You just told me you plan to have a baby. I’m a little more than fucking shocked, Elle.” My voice grows louder with every word, reaching high decibels.
“Keep your voice down,” she snaps, her gaze darting to the open door.
“The hell I will. What the fuck are you thinking?”
Her eyes narrow at my tone. “I’m thinking about where I am in my life and how I’m ready to be a mother.”
“Even if it means having some rando’s baby?”
Sex or no sex, that still makes me feel all sorts of pissed off.
Her chin lifts defiantly. “Even if it means having some ‘rando’s baby’.”
I shake my head, struggling to comprehend this.
“It’s not as uncommon as you think,” she says. “This sort of thing is done all the time. It’s safe and a great alternative for someone like myself.”
“Christ, Ellie, are you listening to yourself? You have no idea what kind of people they accept. You could have some wacko’s baby and not even know it.”
“No, that’s not true,” she denies vehemently. “All donors go through a rigorous screening process.”
I grunt, having a hard time believing that.
“It’s true,” she insists. “But it doesn’t have to be a stranger, you know …”
My gaze snaps back to hers, suspicion forming at the sudden shift in her tone.
“It could be someone I know. Someone I love and trust.” Her voice is soft now, each word carefully chosen. “Like … my best friend.”
A harsh laugh rips from my chest, the insinuation so outlandish it’s all I can manage.
“Hear me out,” she rushes to say, placating me with her hands. “This could be a win for the both of us.”
“Yeah? And how do you figure that?” I ask, wondering when she went and lost her damn mind.
“You never want to get married or commit to anyone, right?”
I don’t bother responding since we both know the answer to that question.
“But you and I”—she gestures between us—“we’re already committed. Which means we can be parents without having to worry about all that messy stuff like sex and relationships. Well, you’ll still have sex, I’m sure,” she adds on an awkward laugh. “And hopefully one day I’ll get married, but that won’t change anything between us.”
If she’s hoping this is a selling point for me, she’s got another thing coming.
“Just think, you’re going to be part of my child’s life either way. But instead of being Uncle Gunnar, you could be Daddy Gunnar.” She presents this to me like it’s the opportunity of a lifetime as if it’s not completely certifiable.
“You know, Elle,” I begin, my tone surprisingly calm. “You have said and done a lot of crazy shit over the years, but this one takes the fucking cake.”
Her excitement deflates. “Why?” she asks, sounding genuinely confused. “Why would it be so crazy for us to be parents together?”
“There’s a plethora of fucking reasons,” I bellow, my frustration boiling over. “For starters, I don’t know the first thing about being a father.”
She’s completely unfazed by this. “So? I don’t know how to be a mother.”
I throw my hands up. “There you go. All the more reason why it’s crazy for you to even be talking about this.”
She rolls her eyes. “Being a parent isn’t something you already know how to do, Gunnar. It’s something you learn. Sure, we’ll make mistakes, but what matters is growing from them and loving our child through it all.”
