Midweek drabbles, or “this was going to be sexy, but then it got sad…”


“I’d love some, thanks.” Jane softly set down a cup beside me. I murmured my thanks again, trying to focus on my papers. I had printed them out in the lab in the hurry, trying to get back home to Jane. She seemed alright now, but I was still replaying what she’d said that morning.

“Jesse?” I looked up. Jane was curled up in her armchair, a book in her lap and tucked under a quilt. She still seemed a bit nervous. “Is something wrong?”

Well, there’s no point in lying. Jane is many things, but a fool is not one of them. She always seemed to have a way to tell when I was lying, so I learned early on that it was useless to lie to my wife. I sighed, not really sure of what to do here.

Here’s the thing: Jane wants to get pregnant. After all this time together, all of our plans, those evenings we shared, she wanted a child. A child! It had been the one thing I was dreading.

She cocked her head, still looking at me.

I think her mother had finally gotten to her. Jane didn’t use to want to have kids, not when we first met. We were young and free, both freshmen in college. We were comrades, we were friends, we experimented together. Our relationship just fit into place; we were close enough that it was a natural next step to commit ourselves to one another.

Jane’s mother flipped, to put it mildly. She couldn’t seem to look beyond my body, beyond my breasts and my vagina, and see the man I was. The man I wanted to be. Nevertheless, as soon as we both graduated, Jane and I ran off together, her mother’s blessing be damned. We left the city for an even bigger city and lost ourselves in it, just us two. I went through my transition, Jane supporting me through everything, all of the bullshit I had to go through, all of the hoops I had to jump, just to reconcile who I was and how I felt with the legal system. “No, it’s not a choice.” “Yes, this is really how I feel inside.” Over and over again… I don’t think I would’ve made it through without Jane by my side, comforting me.

But now… I can’t help but feel as though I’ve forgotten about her. Years have passed since my triumph; I have a Ph.D and a license that’s finally correct. I work for a company that could very well have the answers to humanity’s problems, for the right price anyway. I live in a nice yet modest neighborhood; I drive a nice yet modest car; I live a nice yet modest life. But what about Jane? Do I even know the love of my life anymore?


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