“Just so you know, I think it’s stupid you have to get permission from Susan to come get a drink,” I said.

I embraced Sawyer and clapped his back before we sat down at the bar.

“Trust me. One day when you marry Kylie, you’ll understand.”

I cringed at his words as a beer slid down the bar to me. I caught it in my hand and brought it directly to my lips, trying to drown out the echoes of statements that had been rolling around in my mind for days.

“This isn’t a friendly outing, is it?” Sawyer asked.

“That easy to tell?” I asked.

“What’s going on? Time to spill. Did you get into another argument with Kylie?”

“Yep. And this one was massive. I yelled at her, Sawyer. I mean throat-throttling roars.”

“Are you serious? Dude, you never yell. I’ve heard it maybe once, and that was you yelling at me across the bar to stop making out with Susan in a corner so we could take shots.”

“It all happened so fast. I don’t know what the fuck happened,” I said.

“What was the fight about?”

“Everything. But it started with the apartment. She asked me if I wanted to still move in with her, and I paused.”

“Okay, first off, I didn't know the two of you had agreed to move in together, so fuck you for not filling me in.”

“You were kind of having a baby with Susan. Sorry for not wanting to steal the limelight,” I said.

“So, just a quick blurb: you agreed to move in with her and now you don’t want to?”

“That’s the gist of it, yeah. And I thought I did. I thought I wanted to move in with her. I thought maybe if I compromised and gave in, it would make her happy and progress our relationship, that she’d settle the fuck down when it came to always talking about our future.”

“You’re an idiot,” he said.

“And three days later, you guys had the baby and she flat-out asked me if I wanted kids. We just put a deposit down on a damn apartment and she’s asking me about kids, Sawyer.”

“You’ve been with a woman for four fucking years and you still have no idea how they operate. You’re an idiot,” he said. “So, all this shit goes down, something that I don’t care about happens, she asks you if you still want to move in with her, and you pause?”

“Yep.”

“The pause is never good, Adam. Why did you pause?”

“It was just a damn pause!”

“No, Adam. It’s never just a pause. It’s you debating how to answer the question, which means the answer isn’t a straight-up ‘yes, sweetie, I really do.’ Do you still want to move in with Kylie?”

“I’m not sure if I’m ready for it, no.”

“Are you over the relationship?”

“Why the hell is that your automatic assumption?” I asked. “Because I don’t want to move in with Kylie I’m somehow over the past four years? I somehow don’t love her anymore? What the fuck is up with you people?”

“All right. Well, if you threw that kind of attitude at her, I hope she yelled back at you.”

“Trust me, she did,” I said.

“First off, good. Secondly, what the fuck, Adam? Answer the damn question and quit letting your emotions rule the damn roost.”

“No,” I said. “I don’t think I’m over the relationship.”

“There’s that ‘think’ word again.”

“Why do I have to answer everything with a definitive?”

“Because relationships are definitive, Adam! Susan and I aren’t married, ‘I think.’ We’re married, ‘I know.’”

“If you’re asking me if I still love her, then yes. We still have amazing sex and Kylie’s beautiful and funny and smart.”

“But…?”

“But sometimes I wonder if we’re moving down different paths in life,” I said. “Sometimes I lie in bed alone at night and wonder if Kylie would be better off with someone a little more her speed, with her same outlooks. Someone who operates on the same sort of structure she does.”

“She roots you, Adam. You’re a creative spirit, but sometimes your mind gets the best of you. You float through life, and Kylie gives you that anchor you need.”

“But that anchor is becoming a ball and chain. I don’t want that for my life, Sawyer. I want to be spontaneous. I want to be stress-free. I want to be careless and reckless and break the rules.”

“Well, Kylie isn’t that kind of woman. She never will be,” he said.

“She’s ready to settle down, you know? Buy a house or a condo. Have kids and hold down a steady job. That’s what she wants. Instead of this move abating the conversation about a future, it spurned her toward other things—marriage and kids and a nine-to-five. It freaks me the fuck out.”

“It sounds like you already have your mind made up about something you don’t want to speak into the ethers,” he said.

“Maybe she should be with someone like my dad,” I said with a grin.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, someone like my dad: successful, rich, driven, always making her laugh. Essentially the total opposite of me.”

“What do you mean your father always makes her laugh?”

“What?”

The look on Sawyer’s face made me panic.

“It was just a comment. A joke,” I said.

“Didn’t sound like one. What’s going on with your dad?” he asked.

“Nothing! It’s just…I saw them coming out of a meeting Monday morning when things were still good with Kylie and me, and they were laughing.”

“About what?”

“How the fuck should I know?” I said. “They were down the hallway.”

“How was she laughing?”

“How the hell is that even a question?”

“Was it a giggle? Was she blushing? Did she have her head thrown back?”

“You’re freaking me out, Sawyer.”

“You made the comment that she should be with someone like your father. You didn’t name the traits; you specifically named your father. I want to know why.”

“I sometimes forget you’re a psychologist,” I said. “It’s nothing, really. They just looked friendly is all. You know, standing close, her hand on his arm. Laughing.”

“Flirting.”

“No, laughing.”

“Either way, the fact that you brought it up is weird. Whether it’s an insecurity or a red flag for something else, it’s worth noting.”

“Because I don’t have enough to note,” I said.

“You want another beer?” he asked.

He pointed to my empty beer bottle and I nodded. He signaled for the bartender, but my mind was elsewhere. Why had I mentioned my father specifically? Sawyer was right that I hadn’t just rattled off traits. I had mentioned my father before all of those traits. It was meant to have been a joke to lighten the mood, but now my mind was picking apart everything about that encounter: the way Kylie smiled up at him, the way his eyes looked down on her, that soft little arm touch. But she always did that. She always touched someone’s arm if they made her laugh.

But her fingers had lingered.

Had that been intentional? Or did she feel like she had to butter my father up to do well at her job?

A beer settling in front of me ripped me from my thoughts, but it did nothing to abate my worry.

“How’s Daisy?” I asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

“Not sleeping and eating like crazy,” Sawyer said. “Susan was more than willing to kick me out. I might be the only man who goes back to work sooner than paternity leave is finished.”

“You like being a dad?” I asked.

“I do. I’ve always wanted to be a father. And the second I met Susan in high school, I knew I wanted her to be the mother of my children. I’m a lucky man, Adam. And so are you if you ever do choose to settle down.”

But that was the thing. I’d never had a passion to be a father. I didn’t look at Kylie and see anyone other than my girlfriend. I didn’t see a wife or a mother. I saw a career woman who helped me on sets and sat on my cock as the sun descended below the trees. I saw us, not a family. I saw our partnership, not a marriage. And when I held her close at night, I didn’t think about a future or a house or family dinners or massive Christmases or Thanksgiving dinners.

I only thought about her, in the moment, wrapped around me while I held her close.

“To big decisions and new adventures,” Sawyer said.

“Yeah. To all that.”

We clinked our beer bottles and threw them back before ordering a round of shots.