She had noticed that he'd been restless, even angry, all day. Basically, he wasn't the 'Sunny Sonny' he usually was.
When they get home to her apartment and it's time to make dinner, Amanda instructs him to 'chill' in the other room and tells him she will handle it.
"Play some with Jesse, okay? She'll make you feel better."
For once he doesn't squabble with her at all over making dinner – he just lets her take charge. He resignedly, and very slowly, makes his way over the playpen and picks Jesse up.
From the kitchen Amanda occasionally hears him talking softly with Jesse but mostly he's silent. A far cry from the usual exuberance and laughing she normally hears from him when it's playtime.
When she's about halfway done with making dinner, out of the corner of her eye she sees him put Jesse back in the playpen and head to her room. The door shuts with a click.
Something is very, very wrong.
"Hey," she opens the door to her bedroom just a crack and peeps her head in.
He's sitting on her bed, just looking down into his hands. He doesn't answer.
She comes in and sits down beside him. "What's wrong?"
He sighs deeply and pulls a sheet of paper out from his pants pocket. He holds it as if it's something sacred and unfolds it slowly, meticulously before handing it over to her. Barely noticeable, his hands are shaking the whole time.
Lab results.
But what for?
"Sonny, I don't think I understand," she says.
"The doctor says I have less than a 3% chance of being able to have children."
"Wait. What?" she shakes her head a bit and then starts to ask her real question. "Why did you – "
"I wanted to know." He looks so defeated. "I just wanted to know – for our future. In case we had one."
"Uh, huh," she says carefully.
He starts talking with his hands, not really looking at her, but at the floor instead. "My mother, you know. We had a talk. I told her things were getting serious between us and she brought up Lindsay."
Her brow furrows at the unfamiliar name but she just lets him continue.
"Lindsay and I were . . . you know." He nods towards her with a little quirk to the corner of his mouth. "And . . . well, let's just say she should've gotten pregnant."
"And she didn't." Amanda says.
"Yeah. No she didn't." He pauses. "You know, when you're younger, you're just relieved about that kinda situation working out that way. But as you get older, start wanting to have a family . . . "
"Things change."
"Yeah," he says roughly, pulling his hands through his hair. "They change. And you realize you're less of a man."
"No," Amanda says quickly. "That's not what this means."
"Yes, yes it does," he says angrily. "What kind of man can't even father a child?"
"You said there was a 3% chance."
He sighs bitterly, shaking his head as his hands drop limply into his lap. He stares at them. "You ain't looking at a stud here. I'm effectively sterile, Amanda. Sterile. The line ends with me. Do you get that? Do you get what this means?"
"You always wanted to have a family . . . kids of your own. "
"Yes, and you know that," he says adamantly. "But God has decided on a different fate for me and I don't want to accept it."
She reaches out to him but he jerks away.
"I'm angry, Amanda – I'm so angry!"
"I know," is all she can say as she watches him turn red with fury, clenching and unclenching his fists in his lap, never meeting her eyes.
Then Jesse starts crying in the other room and Sonny just hangs his head and lets it fall into his hands. He looks absolutely devastated.