Chapter Text
[Chloe’s POV]
I’m sitting on the couch in the living room, minding my own business, when suddenly, Abigail bursts through the front door and decides to sit next to me with a highly dramatic thwump.
“Um, hello, best friend of mine?” I look up at her from my laptop. She’s close enough that I can smell the nachos she had for lunch on her breath.
“Hey bitch,” she winks, “I have a big favor to ask you. Like. Really big. I mean truly, hugely colossal.”
“Alright, sup, hit me with it.”
“Can you and Harvey hang out with the baby, for like, I don’t know…three, four days? Five if you’re feeling extra spicy,” she asks, her cheeks flushing pink.
“Uhhhh, probably, I guess? Why?”
“I want to take Claire on a lil vaycay sitch.” Abigail grins and bats her lashes at me, before waggling her eyebrows. “Get really bonkers drunk. Not have to worry about a baby crying and waking us up in the morning. Just, you know. Girl things.”
“Just girl things, huh?” I ask dryly. “You never take me on any vaycay sitches!”
“Yeah, well, if you ate me out like she did, I’d totally take you on a vaycay sitch,” Abigail answers plainly, as though pointing out something patently obvious.
I nod, my expression a mixture of a grimace, a smile, and something that’s supposed to be interpreted as ‘supportive’ but I’m not sure it’s working. “I guess I need to take Harvey on a vaycay sitch if that’s our metric here,” I ponder aloud.
Abigail rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “Uh, duh, you need to take him on vacation! You literally have no obligations, have money, and just got married! Why didn’t you two take a honeymoon, anyway???”
“Ha!” I cackle once, throwing my head back before schooling my face into something more serious. “I might not have obligations, but Harvey sure as shit does. He’s up to his eyeballs in hospital construction and hiring and still running the clinic. Though he’s supposedly got some new chick starting soon, Stephanie…somethingorother.”
“Is she like a Maru replacement or a doctor or what?”
I shrug. “Kinda sorta. She’s a PA, so, not quite a doctor, but can write prescriptions and stuff. It means he’ll be able to take an actual vacation at some point, and not just the two or three-day getaways we’ve been doing.”
“Well, good. You two deserve it. I’ll help take care of my sweet Stimpson J. Cat,” Abby pats my arm. “And seriously, take the vacations now. I never had a chance to be a person with Claire without Jonah around, and I love Jonah to pieces, but…oh my god. It’s really hard sometimes,” she whines.
“Yeah, you never really struck me as the type to be down for dating someone with a kid,” I laugh uneasily.
To say she wasn’t down for it is putting it mildly. Abigail was very steadfast in her refusal to ever have kids or be responsible for one. But now? Jonah calls her Mama Bee; we think she was trying to say “Mama Abby,” but it was too hard to say one A after another. It’s insanely cute when you consider that Harvey’s nickname for her is “Little Bee.”
Abigail shrugs, ducking her head shyly with a smile. “Yeah, well, I’m rather partial to that particular kid. Also…” she looks up at me from under her lashes, cheeks flushing red, “Claire and I are eloping.”
“ABBY!” I shout, bolting upright and nearly flinging my laptop across the living room. I hastily shut it and toss it onto the armchair, before grabbing Abigail’s hands and looking at her directly. “You’re WHAT?! And you’re doing it without me?!!!”
“I know, I know!” she cautions, squeezing my hands. “It’s just—call me crazy, but I really want this one to just be ours. There’s so little in our relationship that is just ours, you know? Also, you’re squeezing my hands too hard, ouch!” she laughs.
I let go of her hands, bracing mine on the tops of my thighs for a second as I look at my friend closely. “Bitch, that’s the best news I’ve heard all year. I fucking love you!” I tell her before throwing my arms around her in a bear hug.
Abby yelps with surprise before embracing me in return, laughing. “Oh thank god, I was terrified you’d be pissed.”
I let her go and put my hands on her arms, shaking her slightly as I talk. “Abby. If I never have to plan or look at or go to another wedding in my life, it will be too fucking soon,” I tell her gravely. “This is fucking fantastic and I’m SO HAPPY for you!!!”
She smiles the sweetest, most bashful smile I’ve ever seen on Abigail’s face in my entire life. “Thanks, Chloridian. That means the world to me.”
“How much does Claire know about your little scheme, here? Are you sure she’s okay to leave Jonah for that long?” I ask, twisting myself on the couch and curling a leg up under myself so I can look at Abigail more easily.
“Oh, she knows the score, she’s not the biggest fan of surprises,” Abby chuckles, leaning back into the couch. “And she’s even less of a fan of Tiffany being up in her business, or not adhering to Jonah’s routine, so that’s why we thought you and Harvey might be a better fit for watching her for a few days.”
“She and Tiff really seem to butt heads, don’t they?” I marvel aloud, shaking my head. “Harvey acts like she hangs the moon, but Claire always seems so irritated by her.”
“Yeah, unfortunately I don’t think Claire had the same rosy experience with her as a kid that Harvey did,” Abigail grimaces slightly. “Not really my story to tell, but hopefully those two talk at some point about it.”
I blink with surprise. “Huh. Well that’s not cryptic as fuck.”
She shrugs lightly. “Gotta keep it interesting somehow.”
I take a moment to digest the information, before deciding to go back to the topic at hand. “So when are you going to do this little elopement vaycay sitch, anyway?”
Abby instantly brightens at the change in subject. “We were hoping to do it in a couple of weeks?”
“Done,” I answer simply, miming checking it off a list. “Hopefully Harvey is on board, but I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t be.”
She beams, before leaning in for another hug. “Thank youuuuu oh my god thank you Chloe, seriously you’re the fucking bestest friend anyone could have.”
“Of course, dude. You and Claire have been Harvey and I’s evil scheme all along, it would make no sense if we marriage-blocked you!” I laugh. “Now I just have to find a way to manipulate science so that she can get pregnant with your baby or something.”
Abigail leans back, looking like she got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “Actually…” she puts on an overly innocent expression, as she braces herself. “I think I’d be the one to get pregnant next time.”
“Whoa!” I laugh. “Damn, you two have planned out a whole future, huh? How’s that gonna work then?”
She clears her throat. “Um, well, if I have the baby and am the biological mother, then, it could be related to us both if we, uh, borrow genetic material from one of her brothers…?” she looks at me hopefully.
I snort on my own laughter, bracing one hand on Abby’s shoulder as I wheeze. “Wait a second. Are you saying you want to have either Harvey or Peter’s baby? Oh my fucking god that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day,” I cackle.
“If we have Harvey as the donor, then our kids could be siblings,” she points out softly, bringing my laughter to a screeching halt.
Oh.
Oh this bitch is actually serious.
I look up at Abigail with wide eyes. I’m not sure if my expression betrays the intensely weird mixture of feelings I’m having bubble up right now.
“You—wait—huh?” I stammer, frozen in place.
“Totally a long ways off from that!” she quickly reassures me. “And I know it could be stupid weird and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, and—”
“Abby,” I interrupt quietly. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not mad,” I say cautiously. “Am I shocked? Yes. Caught off guard? Double yes. But mad? Nope.”
“And…?”
“And…I don’t know?” I answer uneasily. “I mean, god that would be insane. And kinda beautiful. And super weird. You know he’s got a vasectomy right? Like, I’m not even sure what would be entailed in figuring out—”
“Oh, there’s options!” she chirps, betraying how much she’s thought about this. “I know you two were thinking of kids at some point, so you could do the reversal now, or he could undergo a retrieval procedure. When were you two thinking of starting on the kids thing, anyway?”
“Uhhhh,” I laugh anxiously, scratching the back of my head. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I’m only twenty-three!”
She sighs. “Yeah, I certainly never thought I’d have kids before the age of ninety, but raising a baby is fucking hard, and Claire and I want to have a kid together, so I figure, why not do it now and then that way, we’re done. Get all the pain out of the way up front, you know?”
“But like, that’s a lot of stress to put on the two of you so early on in your relationship, yeah?” I point out, trying not to sound discouraging.
“It is,” she agrees, chewing on her lower lip as she looks down at her nails. “But it also seems like the quickest path toward getting back to myself afterwards, too.”
“I mean, it would be kinda cool to raise our kids together, yeah?”
The words leave my mouth before I have a chance to even understand what I’m asking. Wait. I can’t seriously be thinking about doing this, am I?! What the fuck!
The way Abigail’s face lights up at the question makes my goddamn heart melt, though. “Yeah, it would,” she replies with a hoarse voice. “Just think on it, yeah?”
“I will,” I nod, before scooting closer to Abby and wrapping my arms around her again. “And I’ll even have the insanely awkward talk with Harvey about fathering a baby with my best friend and his sister,” I laugh.
“Just to be clear, it would be my egg, here,” she returns the laughter, leaning into me. “He’d just be Uncle Daddy Harvey in the most progressive sense of the term. Not literal.”
“Oh, gross, dude,” I cackle, throwing my head back against the couch. “Uncle Daddy Harvey, fucking seriously? That is somehow both the most progressive and most disturbing phrase you've ever said to me.”
“And yet you’re still talking to me,” Abby grins, stealing one of my throw pillows and hugging it to her chest.
I study her face for a moment, taking in the genuine excitement underneath all the nervous energy. “You know what the weirdest part is? I can actually picture it. All of us raising kids together, holidays turning into complete chaos, Harvey teaching them all how to identify poison ivy while you teach them how to handle conflict through a complex series of threats, bribes, and minor acts of arson.”
“Oh my god, yes!” she lights up. “And Claire can teach them actual useful life skills while you teach them how to manipulate adults with puppy dog eyes.”
“I do NOT manipulate adults with puppy dog eyes,” I protest indignantly.
Abigail gives me a look that could peel paint. “Chloe. You literally got out of a speeding ticket last month by telling the cop you were rushing home to feed your 'anxious cat.'“
“Stimpy IS anxious! That was the only reason I got pulled over!”
“Stimpy is a sociopath who plots against the mailman!”
I can't argue with that logic, so I just shrug. “Fair point.”
We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, both lost in thought. Finally, I lean back into the couch cushions and sigh.
“Okay, for real though. I'll talk to Harvey about the whole...genetic donation situation,” I say, feeling my cheeks heat up slightly. “But if he’s not into it, we don’t make this a thing beyond what’s said right here, deal?”
“Deal,” Abby nods solemnly, then breaks into a grin. “But I'm holding you to that awkward conversation. I want full details about his reaction.”
“Oh, you'll get them whether you want them or not,” I laugh. “There's no way I'm suffering through that alone.”
She stands up and stretches dramatically. “Alright, I should probably head out and let you get back to whatever very important laptop things you were doing before I ambushed you with my reproductive schemes.”
“You interrupted my very important Tuesday Morning Porn Time,” I snort. “Gotta keep myself fresh on what’s popular these days.”
“Uh huh, yeah, very important,” she says, bending down to give me one last hug. “Thanks for not freaking out about any of this, Chloridian. It means everything.”
“Thanks for trusting me with your completely insane and beautiful plans,” I squeeze her tight. “Now go forth and plan the shit out of that vaycay sitch.”
“Will do,” she calls over her shoulder as she heads for the door. “Love you, bitch!”
“Love you too, you absolute whore!”
The door closes behind her with a decisive click, leaving me alone with my laptop, my thoughts, and the sudden realization that I might actually be considering letting my husband knock up my best friend.
What the fuck has my life become?
--
[Harvey’s POV]
I am up to my elbows in tongue depressors.
It’s the kind of mindless clinic chore I used to pawn off on Maru, but something about the repetitive action is calming today. Stack, rotate, refill. Stack, rotate, refill. I can almost pretend I’m not behind on paperwork. Or grant deadlines. Or the strategic planning document Maru’s ghost still haunts via Google Docs.
“Haaayyyyy,” Chloe’s voice breaks through the quiet, and I glance up to find her standing in the doorway, holding two iced coffees and wearing an unreadably impish expression.
“Oooooh, coffee,” I grin, happily taking one from her. “To what do I owe the pleasure of my beautiful wife coming to visit?”
She shrugs, a little too innocently. “Oh, you know, just out and about, thought I’d come maybe seduce my husband while he’s still working solo,” she smirks.
I raise a brow. “Here?”
“Mmhmm,” she says, walking slowly toward me. “Before Stephanie somethingorother moves in and you’re no longer the sole healthcare provider to the entire county.” She gestures vaguely at the clinic walls. “It’s our last chance. End of an era. I want to leave a mark.”
Last week, I finally made my first hire since Maru left six months ago: A PA named Stephanie Somitharakis, recently graduated and currently living in Grampleton. Since Claire no longer lives in the apartment upstairs, I offered to let Stephanie rent the place at a reduced cost. It means that the delightful shenanigans of Chloe showing up and seducing me in my own workplace now have an expiration date.
And that expiration date is tomorrow.
I clear my throat at Chloe’s proposition. “That’s what signatures are for,” I pretend to balk.
“Oh, babe.” She’s right in front of me now, sliding her hand up my chest like she’s checking for a pulse. “I wasn’t planning to use a pen.”
“That’s too bad, I have quite an array for you to choose from,” I murmur seductively.
Her eyes sparkle as she sets her cup down on the counter beside mine and pushes herself up onto the exam table, swinging her legs casually. “You’re not really busy right now, are you?”
“Technically,” I say, aware that I’m already walking toward her. “I have a to-do list.”
“Mm. Is ‘fuck your wife’ on it?”
“Why yes, in fact, it is,” I smile, unable to hide how much I love this.
She opens her legs slightly, just enough to trip the switch in my brain from “normal man” to…whatever the hell it is I’m turning into right now. “Thought so.”
I reach for her, and she meets me halfway, grabbing me by the collar and yanking me in. The kiss is instant heat; it’s not one of those coy, delicate kisses she gives me in public. This is the private kind. The kind that makes me lightheaded. The kind that makes me forget I have medical degrees and instead remember what her thighs feel like around my shoulders.
My hands settle on her hips. Her fingers curl into my hair, tugging slightly—just enough to make me groan.
“I locked the front door,” she murmurs.
“Good girl,” I mutter. “Let’s get your vitals first.”
I hate how much I love doing this, here, with her. It should be something that goes against my better judgement, but it’s one of my favorite scenes to do with my wife.
I press two fingers to the inside of her wrist. “Mmm, strong pulse. Elevated. Breathing’s a little shallow too,” I note, leaning closer, letting my lips hover near her ear. “Any idea what might be causing that?”
“Hot doctor hovering over me in his lab coat,” she whispers, biting her lip.
I swallow hard. “Noted.”
The stethoscope is within reach. I grab it just to see her eyes widen, then slip it under her shirt, cold metal against warm skin. She jerks and laughs, the sound turning quickly into a breathless little sigh when I press it lower, right above her heart.
“Fast rate,” I murmur. “Definitely needs intervention.”
“And what’s your… treatment plan?”
“Unclear,” I admit, kissing along her jaw, “but I think it involves you making a terrible mess of my clinic.”
She yanks me closer by my tie, eyes alight. “God, I love when you say things like that.”
I kiss her hard, one hand braced beside her, the other already sliding up her skirt, fingers dragging along the inside of her thigh. She arches up against me, paper tearing beneath her.
“I’m going to ruin this skirt,” I warn, voice low and frayed.
“Do it,” she breathes. “It was five bucks on clearance and I only bought it because the waistline looked biteable.”
I laugh against her neck, as I ease her underwear down with one hand, delighting in her sounds. “You’re nothing if not incredibly biteable.”
Chloe shudders, one hand gripping the edge of the exam table and the other tangled in my hair, guiding me exactly where she wants me—like I wasn’t already on my way down there to begin with.
I settle between her thighs, kissing the sensitive skin leading to her core. I dare not keep her waiting for too long though, humming my satisfaction when she lets out a quiet, sharp exhale as my tongue flicks against her. “Oh, fuck, Harvey—”
I pull back just enough to look up at her, her skirt covering my face below my nose. “Miss Sullivan, we’re in a professional setting. Please refer to me as Dr. Klein.”
Her laugh breaks on a moan, long and low and mine. I press her legs further apart, lifting one thigh over my shoulder, and the torn paper beneath her crinkles in time with her breath. The taste of her still sends a rush to my head like a drug, a feeling I’ll never get sick of chasing.
“Fucking hell,” she pants. “You always do this—fuck—like you’re trying to write a sonnet with your mouth—”
I glance up. “You love it.”
“I do. I do,” she babbles, breath hitching as I pick up speed.
I can feel her getting close—the way her breathing changes, how her grip tightens in my hair, the little sounds she makes that she thinks she's holding back but aren't nearly as quiet as she imagines. I know her body like I know my own heartbeat by now, every tell, every signal.
“Harvey,” she gasps, “I'm—fuck, I'm gonna—”
I hum against her, doubling down, and she comes apart with a sharp cry that echoes off the clinical walls. Her thighs tremble around my head as I work her through it, gentling my touch as she comes down, pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs.
When I finally emerge from under her skirt, she's sprawled back on the exam table, chest heaving, hair a beautiful disaster. The paper beneath her is completely shredded.
“Hey,” she breathes, reaching for me. “Get up here.”
I don't need to be told twice. I'm on her in seconds, kissing her deeply while my hands work at my belt buckle. She tastes herself on my tongue and moans into my mouth, her legs wrapping around my waist.
“I need to fuck you so bad,” she whispers against my lips, helping me with my zipper.
I line myself up and push in slowly, both of us groaning at the sensation. She's still sensitive from her orgasm, and I can feel her pulse around me as I bottom out.
“Fuck, Chloe,” I breathe, forehead pressed against hers. “You feel incredible.”
She rocks her hips up against mine, urging me to move. “Come on, Dr. Klein. Show me those bedside manners.”
I start slow, savoring the way she feels wrapped around me, but it doesn't take long before the pace picks up. She's pulling at my shirt, my hair, making those sounds that drive me absolutely crazy. The exam table creaks ominously beneath us.
“Harder,” she demands, nails digging into my shoulders.
I give her what she wants, hiking her leg higher around my waist and driving into her with purpose..
“Yes, fuck, just like that,” she pants. “God, Harvey, you're gonna make me come again—”
“Do it,” I growl against her throat. “Come for me.”
She does, clenching around me so tightly that it pushes me over the edge. I bury myself deep and come with a groan that I muffle against her shoulder, my whole body shuddering.
We stay like that for a moment, catching our breath, foreheads pressed together. I can feel her heartbeat gradually slowing.
“Well,” she says finally, grinning up at me, “that was definitely unprofessional.”
I laugh, pulling out carefully and reaching for the tissue box. “Completely inappropriate use of medical facilities.”
“The best kind,” she agrees, sitting up and smoothing down her skirt.
I'm tucking my shirt back in and zipping up my pants when she clears her throat. “So uh, Abby came by earlier.”
I look up at her as I adjust my tie back into place. “Uh-oh. Abby comes by every day, so whatever it is must be bad, if you came by with coffee and sex to butter me up.”
She scoffs with mock innocence, putting her hands up in the air. “Now why would I do that?! Can’t a girl just bring her husband some coffee and get railed on an exam table? Sheesh!”
“Okay, yes, it is something you do with some regularity, but you never mention Abigail coming by like it’s some kind of ‘news’ you need to tell me, unless there’s, you know, news you suddenly need to tell me.” I narrow my eyes at her playfully, before grabbing my iced coffee and hopping up on the exam table, sitting next to her. “Come on. Spill.”
Chloe sighs. “Well, I’m not sure if your sister informed you or not, but she and Abigail are going to elope in a couple of weeks. Abigail was wondering if we’d hang out with Jonah for ‘between three and five days’ while they go on a girls-only vaycay sitch.”
“Aw, I want to go on a vaycay sitch,” I pout into my coffee, before shaking myself off and looking up at Chloe with wide eyes. “Wait, they’re what?”
“Getting married,” she pokes me in the side whilst grinning. “Abby said they wanted something that was just for them, because little else is, so I said I’d talk to you but that we could probably make it work.”
“Oh my god, of course, wow, yes!” I sputter with excitement. “That’s fantastic news! I mean, definitely bittersweet that I won’t get to be there, but I’m thrilled to hear they’re joining the Married Folks club.”
“Aww, you are too cute,” she giggles before kissing my cheek. But then she suddenly goes a little quiet, clearing her throat nervously.
“Uh-oh, there’s something else,” I say warily. “That’s your ‘I’m about to drop a bomb’ face.”
She nods slowly, eyes focusing on the linoleum floor, mouth quirking in all kinds of odd directions, like she’s trying different phrases on for size in her mind before she says something out loud that she can’t take back.
“I’m debating if I should do the good news, bad news, good news sandwich, or if I should just cut to the chase…” she grimaces.
“Please don’t leave your nearly middle-aged husband in suspense, the men in my family have a terrible track record of making it past forty,” I deadpan.
“Right. Um. So. They want to have a baby, and Abigail said she wanted to carry the baby—”
“That’s fantastic!!” I chirp, my face lighting up with joy.
“I’m not done,” she looks up at me with a rueful smile. “They want the baby to be related to both of them.”
I blink, my blood running somehow both hot and cold as I immediately clock the implication. “Please tell me that means they’re asking Peter.”
She smiles softly, tilting her head to one side as she puts a hand on my thigh. “They wanted to ask you first. Namely because that way, if I had a baby with you, then my baby would be genetically half-siblings with Abby’s baby.”
“They… they want me to be, what, Uncle Daddy Harvey?”
Chloe squeezes her eyes shut, trying not to laugh as she shakes her head, taking a deep breath through her nose. “Literally that’s what Abigail said and that REALLY freaks me out,” she finally chokes out, still trying to keep a straight face.
“Well how do you think I feel?!” I say as both my voice and my eyebrows climb into the stratosphere, though I can’t hold a straight face for long either, and we both descend into helpless laughter.
It’s the kind that eventually peters out and leaves a strange, echoing quiet in its place. The kind where you look at each other and realize you’ve crossed into a space that’s not exactly a joke anymore.
I run a hand through my hair, staring down the barrel of a question I never thought would be pointed at me. A weird, beautiful, emotionally-volatile question.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Chloe asks gently, nudging my leg with hers. “Just, throw some thoughts at me, no wrong answers here.”
“I mean, fuck, where do I start? I guess the first one is, how are you feeling about this? Your best friend wants to have your husband’s baby, like, that has to be weird, right?” I ask, looking up at her, searching her face for any clue that she’s not okay.
She shrugs. “It’s not not weird,” she starts cautiously. “I wasn’t even sure I ever wanted to have kids until you said you wanted to have kids with me. I never wanted to be the kind of parent that my parents were to me, and the easiest way to make sure that doesn’t happen, is just to, you know, not do it at all.”
My heart breaks a little hearing her say that.
“But then I see you with Jonah, I see what an amazing uncle you are, I see how you act like a surrogate dad to her anyway, and yeah, it makes my goddamn ovaries hurt,” she laughs, tipping sideways until her head lands on my shoulder. “And I know how hot and bothered it makes you when you think about putting babies in me,” she teases.
Unfortunately, even just thinking of that immediately makes my dick twitch. “Yeah, I still don’t understand why that does it for me, but it really does,” I admit, laughing through my ashamed embarrassment. “And that’s not what would be happening here, you know?”
I feel her nodding against me. “I know. But even so, yeah, I definitely have a pang of the ‘what if’s when I think of my best friend carrying my husband’s baby before I’ve even had a chance to be ready for motherhood. And like, what if you two end up fighting over something about the baby? You’re already like a dad to Jonah, it’s not like you can just turn that off for this baby, except for this baby, you’d be its actual fucking dad. What if you disagree about something? Would you really be able to let that slide?”
“This is why I kind of wish they’d gone to Peter with this instead of me,” I murmur, resting my cheek against the top of Chloe’s head.
“They still could, you know,” she replies softly. “How do you think he’d handle the idea?”
“I think he’d have an easier time being hands-off. He’s the kind of guy who could donate to a sperm bank and be fine with his genetic material being out there in the world. I just—I don’t know if I’m that guy. Not when my baby would be literally living next door to me.”
“Well, then maybe we just tell them they should ask Peter?” she suggests. “Our kids would still be related, they’d just be cousins instead of half-siblings. Maybe that would be better anyway, and then we have a chance to figure out our timeline, on our terms.”
I take a deep breath, not really sure where my thoughts are at.
“Harvey, I feel you going all still and weird and sadboi on me,” Chloe chides. “You want to do this, don’t you?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper, my voice failing, only air coming through. “For one, they have to stick needles in my balls, and I mean, I know it’s worse for the person actually carrying the baby, but come on, that doesn’t sound pleasant.”
“Hey, that was your call, my guy,” she laughs.
I clear my throat, tears suddenly springing up in my eyes without warning. “What if, regardless of the decision we make about donation, I got the reversal now?”
Chloe sits up, turning to look at me quizzically.
I take another deep breath, my heart hammering in my chest. “I just mean—they don’t always work. And the only thing here that I do know is that I really, really want to be a dad, but only if I’m doing it alongside you.”
“Oh, we’ll be doing it alongside each other, alright,” she waggles her eyebrows suggestively, before suppressing a giggle.
I pause, swallowing hard. “Right, well, that would be the hope. Problem is, the longer we wait, the less likely we’d be able to conceive naturally. It’s been over fifteen years as it is, which means the likelihood of us getting pregnant is already down to about thirty percent.”
Her expression turns serious. “Wait, really? I—” she blinks, looking like the world just turned upside down, “—I didn’t realize that the odds were so bad...”
I put my free arm around her. “Your age works in our favor. And they can do a retrieval at the same time; it can be frozen for our own insurance policy, but also for Abby, if we decide we want to do that.”
“I just don’t understand how today went from me watching porn on my laptop to Abby saying she wanted to have your baby to us now discussing this for ourselves in the span of six hours, just… what the fuck?” she huffs a mirthless laugh. “I thought I had all the time in the world.”
“You do,” I reassure her quickly. “This just means we can spend years trying for fun, and then if it doesn’t happen, we fall back to the swimmers on ice.”
“Harvey, you just made your jizz sound like an ice-skating revue, what the actual fuck,” she cackles helplessly.
“I mean…how does that sound?”
She takes a moment to ponder, before looking at me with a bemused smirk, like she knows she’s about to say something cute.
“Well,” Chloe huffs a laugh, “Sounds like you’re about to get needles in your balls.”