My mind reverses back to yesterday, and I frown. What I admitted out loud about kids—I had crushed her and I didn’t even fucking realize it. I go further back. Paris. I still feel that night like a deep scar beneath my skin. I was lost, and no part of me would’ve functioned the right way with this news. She had eight weeks, maybe less, to tell me the truth. And all of them, I wasn’t strong enough to handle it.
