“You’re not allowed to get pregnant until you’re at least thirty. I’m not ready to be an uncle.”
“Oh my God. Life isn’t always about you!” They stand there bickering as if I’m not bent in half on the marble floor, gasping for air.
“I’m not having kids with you,” I wheeze at Summer. “I don’t want to be part of your insane family.”
“Oh hush, sweetie. It’s too late. I’ve become attached.”