Gray sweater, dark jeans, barefoot. She looked more human than she had any right to. Come in, she said. Inside the house was exactly what he expected. Marble floors, minimalist furniture, art on the walls that Adrian didn’t recognize, but assumed was expensive. Everything clean, everything perfect, everything empty.
She led him to a sitting room overlooking the backyard, where two chairs faced each other across a low glass table. Coffee? She offered. Sure. She poured from a French press and handed him a cup. The silence stretched between them, awkward and heavy. You wanted to talk, Vivian said finally. Adrian nodded. I need to understand what you’re actually asking for, because right now it sounds like you want me to be a sperm donor and a dad, and I don’t know what else.
I want you to be a father, she said simply. Not a donor, not a name on a birth certificate, a real father. And what does that look like to you? She hesitated. I don’t know yet. I just know I don’t want to do this alone. I don’t want my child to grow up without a father, and I don’t want to choose someone who sees this as a favor or a business arrangement.
So you chose a guy you’ve never spoken to. I chose someone I’ve watched be a good father from a distance. That’s more than most people have to go on. Adrian set his cup down. You realize how strange this is, right? Yes. You realize I could say no, and that would be the end of it. Yes. So why do I get the feeling you think I’m going to say yes? Vivian smiled faintly.
Because you’re still here. He couldn’t argue with that. I have questions, Adrian said, a lot of them. Ask. What happens if I say yes? Do we He stopped, suddenly aware of how absurd the conversation was. I don’t even know how to ask this. We would try to conceive, Vivian said calmly, as if discussing a business merger. Naturally, if you’re comfortable with that, or through IVF if you’re not.
Adrian rubbed his face. And then what? Then we figure it out together. That’s not an answer. It’s the only answer I have. She leaned forward, her expression serious. I can’t promise you this will be easy. I can’t promise it won’t be complicated, but I can promise I won’t shut you out. If we do this, you’ll be part of everything, every decision, every step.
Adrian stood and walked to the window. The backyard stretched out like a postcard. Perfect lawn, stone patio, pool covered for winter. It was beautiful and lifeless. I lost my wife 3 years ago, he said quietly. Cancer. She fought for 14 months, and then she was gone. I spent the last 3 years trying to be enough for Eli.
Trying to be both parents. Trying not to fall apart. Vivian didn’t respond. She just listened. I don’t know if I have anything left to give, Adrian continued. I’m barely keeping my head above water as it is. I’m not asking you to save me, Vivian said softly. I’m asking you to help me build something. He turned to face her. Why does it have to be me? Because you understand loss.
Because you didn’t let it destroy you. Because your son is proof that you know how to love someone even when the world is falling apart. She stood and crossed the room to stand beside him. I need someone who gets it, and I think you do. Adrian looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the cracks in the armor, the exhaustion, the desperation, the hope she was trying not to show.
He thought about Eli, about the life they’d built, about what it would mean to bring another person into that fragile balance. And then he thought about the look on Vivian’s face when she talked about her daughter. If I say yes, he said slowly, this doesn’t happen overnight. I need time. I need to think about what this means for Eli, for me, for all of us.
I understand. And if we do this, I’m not just a donor. I’m a father, full stop. That means I’m involved. That means I get a say. I wouldn’t want it any other way. Adrian nodded slowly. Then I need some time. Take as much as you need. He walked to the door, and Vivian followed him. Thank you for hearing me out, she said.
Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t decided anything. I know, but you didn’t walk away. He looked at her one more time, then stepped out into the cold morning air. That night Adrian sat Eli down after dinner. Hey, bud, he said gently. Can we talk about something? Eli looked up from his drawing. Am I in trouble? No, nothing like that.
Adrian pulled out a chair and sat across from him. I need to ask you a question, and I need you to be honest with me. Okay? How do you feel about it being just the two of us? Eli frowned, thinking. I don’t know. It’s always been just us. I know. But if things changed, if someone else came into our lives, how would you feel about that? Like a new mom? Adrian hesitated.
Maybe. Or maybe just someone who’s around more. Someone who’s part of our family. Eli shrugged. I guess it would be okay. As long as they’re nice. And as long as I’m still here, right? Yeah. Eli grinned. You’re not allowed to leave. Adrian smiled and ruffled his son’s hair. Deal. Ah. A week later Adrian called Vivian.
“I’m not saying yes yet,” he told her, “but I’m not saying no either. I want to keep talking. Figure out what this would actually look like.” “I can work with that,” Vivian said, and he could hear the relief in her voice. “Good. Because I have about a thousand more questions.” “Then let’s start with one.” Adrian thought for a moment.
