[Previously titled 𝗚𝘂𝗶𝗹𝘁𝘆 𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲]
❝No, Ace. I can't do it," I sob.
"I know you can take more than that, sunshine, come on," he encourages, pummeling into me in fervent motions. "One more for daddy, yeah?" He coaxes in a gruffly voice...
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A C E
I sit in my cluttered office, deeply engrossed in the papers strewn across my desk. There are lots of assignments and notes that need my focus. I'm writing quickly, scribbling notes and annotations, my face serious. Suddenly, I hear a knock on the door, but I'm too busy to notice at first.
"Come in," I call out without looking up, sighing.
The door creaks open, and a soft voice greets me.
"Ace,"
My head jerks, and my jaw clenched at the sound of that voice. It's Marisa. I was hoping for a quiet day of work without any personal issues. I feel relieved that Olivia isn't here to see this unexpected interruption.
But the sight of Marisa's belly, which has grown noticeably over the past few weeks, stirs up a mix of emotions in me. I pause my work, not bothering to hide my irritation.
"What are you doing here?" I ask curtly as Marisa takes a seat across from me, her expression a mix of uncertainty and weariness.
"I needed to talk to you, Ace," she says and I sigh annoyingly, leaning back in my seat.
"You could have just called me or texted me instead of coming here," I ask, frustration creeping into my voice and her eyes hardens slightly.
"If you responded to my calls or replied to my texts more frequently, I wouldn't have had to come here," she replies exasperatedly and another sigh escapes me as I gesture impatiently, urging her to get to the point.
"Just spill it. What do you want?" I ask and she hesitates for a moment, her gaze shifting away.
"I have an appointment with my gynecologist on Saturday, and I would like you to come with me," she speaks and I observe her for a moment, massaging my temples as I contemplate her request.
"Can't you go alone?" I ask with a calm tone.
"The gynecologist will be able to give me the baby's sex," she says, looking directly into my eyes.
Her response strikes a chord I haven't anticipated. Despite the tension between us, I feel a strong urge to know the sex of our baby.
It's in that moment that I realize that by ignoring Marisa, I've unconsciously been ignoring my own child. It hurts to think that I might already be failing as a father, even before our baby is born.
"Ace, I know things haven't been great between us, but this is important to me, to us. I want you to be a part of this moment," she implores.
I let out another sigh, my fingers tapping nervously on the desk. This is my child too, and I can't continue to neglect my responsibilities. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, a sense of guilt washing over me.
