Charlie

She set her bags down and opened the door. Her odd look gave me pause.
“I’m leaving.”
A cold lump filled my chest. “What do you mean?”
“I’m leaving you.”
“You’re leaving? Why? What happened? What’s wrong?”
“I want babies, Charlie, but you can’t give them to me.”
Frantic, I pleaded with her. I wanted her to stay. “But we talked about that. You said you wanted to adopt.”
“No. I didn’t know what to think after we left the hospital, so I just agreed with you about adopting.” Her voice held no contrition, no sorrow, no sign she might be dissuaded from leaving.
My eyes burned, and I turned away. I had always wanted a baby girl, a daughter to love and cherish. The news I couldn’t father children had broken my heart. “But what about us? How can we just throw away our love because I can’t father children?”
“I don’t love you, Charlie. I like you, but I don’t love you. I thought you would make a good father for the children I wanted. I thought that, given time, I would fall in love with you, and we would raise a family. I want a baby, Charlie, my own, but you can’t give me one.”
“You know how much I wanted a daughter. You know how I felt after the test.”
“Charlie, don’t. Don’t make this harder on me. I’m going. Goodbye, Charlie.”
“Where will you go?”
“To find a father for my babies, Charlie.”

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