“I’m twenty-six years old. You are the closest thing I have to a boyfriend. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I am never going to get married. Don’t ask me to kill this baby, it may be the only baby I ever conceive. I am not asking you for anything except your blessing to keep it. If not for me, I know this couple who desperately wants a child and she keeps miscarrying—“
“I won’t have another man raise my child!” he snapped at her.
“So you’d rather kill it? Is your ego really that fragile?” she challenged him.
“You’re in love with this guy, don’t pretend you aren’t. You can’t be together so you’d give him the next best thing? I won’t have that! If you have this baby, you will keep it and I will help out in any way that I can.”
“I won’t marry you.” She told him defiantly.
“I wasn’t asking. You won’t have to. I’ll be around either way.”
“You don’t have to, I can do this on my own.” She insisted.
“You won’t. I know who you will turn to for help and it won’t be me.”
“I can’t trust you to stay!”
“But you trust him?” he asked indignantly.
“I do. A lot.” She replied confidently.
“How can you feel this way about a guy you’ve never even kissed?”
“He and I have something that transcends all of that. You and I have sex. Different levels, different worlds, why can’t you understand that?”
“Because we both know that if he wasn’t married you and I wouldn’t be here right now. It wouldn’t be up for discussion because it wouldn’t be my child you’re carrying, it would be his,”
“And that just scores your pride, doesn’t it?”
“As much as it tears your heart.”
“And yet, here we are.”
“Here we are, indeed.”
