The Man Who Has No Sight - Victoria Quinn Page 0,81

get in with the doctor tomorrow afternoon to find out.”

She ran her fingers through her hair until it was perfect. “Do you want to know?”

I picked up my electric toothbrush and started to brush my teeth. I shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter to you?” she asked.

I paused the vibration. “It’s up to you, baby.” I hit the on-button again.

She turned to me, so she wouldn’t have to look at me in the reflection. “Do you have a preference?”

I did one quadrant of my mouth before I spat into the sink. “No.”

“You don’t want another son?”

“As long as they are healthy, I don’t care.”

“I feel like most men only want boys.”

“Why?” I asked, truly bewildered by that statement.

“Because they do,” she said. “They’re easier when they’re older, their sex lives are handled differently…stuff like that.”

I finished another quadrant before I spat. “If Derek had been a girl, I wouldn’t have raised him any differently.”

She smiled. “That’s sweet.”

“A woman can do anything a man can do, so I just don’t understand the preference. I guess she might not have my last name if she married, but names aren’t important in a legacy—it’s DNA. And she would have my DNA, so…” I started to brush my teeth again.

Cleo watched me, her eyes soft.

When I finally finished, I spat into the sink, rinsed my brush, and returned it to the charger. “And as for dating and boyfriends…I don’t see why that changes anything either. I told you I’m not religious, so whenever she’s ready to do adult things…that’s her decision. I would want her to be smart about it, of course, but I don’t see why it’s different if she were a boy. I know virginity is important to a woman, but I think it’s just a misogynistic tool to keep women obedient. Like they’re giving away a piece of their soul when they sleep with a man for the first time… It’s ridiculous.”

Her arms crossed over her chest. and she continued to smile at me. “I never knew you were a feminist.”

“I’m not.”

She cocked an eyebrow.

“I’m an equalist.”

She smiled. “That’s even better.”

“Back to your original question, no. I don’t care what we have.” If I had a daughter, she would probably be just as brilliant, just as likely to work for NASA or whatever else she aspired to. But if she weren’t interested in that and wanted to be hairdresser, I wouldn’t care either. Every person on the planet was different and unique, and most of the time, they were simply born a certain way. Trying to get them to focus on things that just weren’t innate to their character was pointless. I didn’t force Derek to be a specific way. His interests and curiosity were natural. “Do you have a preference?”

“Well…” She rubbed her hand across her stomach. “I guess I want a son because he’ll look like you. But Derek already does, so I guess we already checked off that box.”

“If we have a girl, I hope she looks like you. She’d be beautiful.”

She smiled again. “That’s sweet…”

“If she looked like me, she’d look pissed off all the time.”

She chuckled. “Derek doesn’t look pissed off.”

“Give it time.”

“The only time you look pissed off is when you’re actually pissed off, and when we met, you were pissed off a lot.”

I wiped the shaving cream on my face. “Ain’t that the truth…”

We postponed dinner with my mom because we decided to learn the sex of the baby instead.

We went to the doctor’s appointment, they did the test, and then we waited in the room.

She sat beside me on the couch, her legs crossed, her breathing quicker than normal because she was nervous.

I placed my arm around her shoulders and looked down into her face. “Why are you nervous?”

“I’m not. I’m just…excited.”

My hand rubbed her arm.

She moved her fingers to my thigh.

I had so much stuff to do at the lab, but I blew it off for this, because this was much more important. I had the rest of my life to work, but I wouldn’t sacrifice these moments that would be fond memories in old age.

It was easy to see how different she was now that I was excited about the baby. All her fear was gone, and she was the relaxed and happy woman she used to be. I liked knowing I made her feel that way, that I made her feel safe, that I made her happy. She never said it, but I knew she loved being taken care of. I gave her

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