+TYPED OUT-

++SINCERELY YOURS-

Was he laughing or crying?

"Kenneth?"

"Sorry, I thought you said you were pregnant."

"It's what I said."

Kenneth nodded, "it's what I heard."

"Kenneth, I know; it feels like someone has dropped a thousand tons on your head."

"It's a euphemism," the man replied, clutching his hands together.

Monday confirmed the nightmare Kenneth dreaded while he watched her sleep. Of all the scenarios, this was the worst for the man.

"What are you going to do?" Kenneth asked.

"I want to know what you want."

"Me," Kenneth shrugged, "I can't say much. It's your body."

Monday's eyes darted as she tried to interpret the words between his lines, "but it's our baby," she blurted.

"Ours," Kenneth repeated and blew out his breath. Why was the room so hot?

Monday watched the freckles erupt on Kenneth's with angst. Kenneth's mind broke the sound barrier as it tried to fit the pieces together.

What sordid twist of fate was this?

They were living their best romance chapter ever, and in came the spermatozoid antagonist to wreck it all.

"Kenneth, I know it's sudden. I was shocked."

"Since when do you know?"

"It's been a month already," Monday replied solemnly.

"One month, you waited a month to tell me?" Kenneth exclaimed.

"I didn't know how you would react; I didn't think of telling you at first. I
ㅡ," Monday lowered her gaze.

She realized Kenneth was right when he said it was her body. She was going to make an arbitrary decision without him.

Why did she want his approval now?

The reason was simple. Kenneth was an essential piece of her love puzzle. She didn't want to lose him.

"What do you want to do, Monday?"

Monday looked up, "I want to keep it. I want to keep you and us."

"Okay," Kenneth said and got up.

Monday did the same and grasped his hands. "Is it okay?" she asked, trying to capture his stare.

"It's okay, Monday." The tone was cold, just as Kenneth's stare screamed betrayal.

"Kenneth, I don't want to force you. I just want a sincere answer."

A corner smile formed as he repeated, "Sincere? You want me to be sincere. One of these days, my diagnosis could change. ㅡDo you know that it's hereditary in eighty percent of the cases." Kenneth pointed at her stomach. "ㅡWhich means you're willing to take that risk? Have you sincerely weighed the question? For I sincerely doubt it because if you sincerely did, you wouldn't be asking me to adhere to this."

The man's incisive and vindicative words chopped Monday's air supply as she muttered, "Kenneth, please."

A single tear rolled down Monday's cheek. She knew it; why did she let Luce enroll her into thinking Kenneth would be happy?

"I love you, Kenneth. I believe God never does something without a reason."

"Come on, Monday, which God? Don't tell me you believe in the speculative hypothesis of a greater being. When you have someone like me with twenty-five years of psychoanalysis for a mental disorder in front of you."