Olivia is sitting on her couch reading on her tablet before bed. Noah has been in bed for a while. Surprisingly her entire day has gone reasonably smooth, other than the nausea and vomiting. Her wet hair rests on the shoulders of her navy button down pajamas. The knuckles rapping against her door causes an inward groan.
She pulls open the door without even checking the peephole. Rafael Barba stands before her wearing a pair of dark wash jeans, a polo, and a pair of loafers.
"Can I come in?"
"Sure," she nods in agreement.
He takes a seat on the couch. She ignores his non-verbal communication, and takes a seat on her sturdy coffee table near the center of the room, instead of joining him on the couch.
"It's nine thirty. What brings you by? I doubt that you were just in the neighborhood."
"You have been avoiding me. I thought things were going relatively well, and then you suddenly seemed to be ghosting me."
"I have been busy."
"Busy-ness is a cop out, and you know it. You are avoiding me. Look, Liv if this isn't going to work, or it's not going anywhere just say so. We are both adults, and nobody needs to waste the other one's time."
"I have been avoiding you, but that really isn't why."
He arches a brow, "So you're just self-sabotaging?"
She leans forward a scooch. "I just needed a little bit of time to re-group."
"I haven't seen you in… three weeks."
"I have been avoiding this conversation. I don't want to be deliberated, or debated. I don't want to be prosecuted. I really need empathy, and understanding."
"Liv, what's going on?"
"Everything seemed to be falling in place. All of a sudden something happened, and now I have no clear picture of what the path forward looks like."
"Did I do something?"
She shrugs, "Maybe."
"Maybe? What does that mean?"
"Only time will tell. I cannot offer you that answer with certainty."
"I am imagining the worst, so it would be helpful if you dialed back the suspense."
She nods, "I'm pregnant."
He falls utterly silent. All color drains from his face.
"While you're reeling I'm going to keep talking. I'm pregnant with twins. I have absolutely no clue if you are the other party responsible, or not. It's you, or…"
"Elliot… good grief. Olivia, I don't think that I want to know that."
"I am trying really hard not to avoid all of the uncomfortable areas associated with this predicament."
"He has super sperm, I doubt mine can compete."
She shrugs, "So that's where we're at."
"I am going to need a little more."
"Than the facts? Do you want explicit detail?"
"I am asking you about your headspace," Rafael clarifies.
"The likelihood of this going really poorly is far greater than me being involved in gun violence at this point. Regardless of the statistics I have made the decision to see this through. I am committing to becoming a parent again. So you have a decision to make. You can stick around. Or, you can hit the road. You can wait to decide until you have a clear picture on paternity. Either way know that I am not going to lie. Whichever party is responsible will be informed, and their level of involvement will be up to them."
He nods as he processes what she's saying, "To summarize, I can stay, or go?"
"Yes."
"The babies you're carrying may, or may not belong to me? If they don't I could have to possibly participate in some form of you co-parenting with someone else?"
"That is correct."
"Also you being pregnant at your age with a host of risk factors means that all of you could have some level of morbidity, and, or mortality."
"Obviously it isn't the deal of the century," Olivia answers.
"I highly suspect that the man with the super sperm is probably responsible."
"Which is a conversation that I am really not looking forward to having with him."
"I feel like you've just put everything on the table, so it seems only fair that I do too."
She waves her finger, "Hold that thought." She pulls a plastic bucket out from under the coffee table, and proceeds to vomit. Rafael watches in horror as she disposes of the bodily fluids, and scours her oral cavity with a toothbrush at her kitchen sink.
"Your level of contempt for whoever did this to you is pretty high, isn't it?"
"Yes," she acknowledge as she takes a seat on the couch.
He motions for her to come closer. He pats her bicep reassuringly as she lies with her head on his lap.
"Olivia I love you. If you had fifty alien babies running around I would still accept you. I know reaching a point where you trust me enough to tell me the whole story is going to take time. I will wait. I am not going anywhere."
She rockets off his lap, and applies a large quantity of emesis to the inside of her kitchen trash can. After she brushes her teeth a second time she clears the silence.
"Rafa, it was a beautiful sentiment, honestly. Unfortunately you cannot stay here. Tonight you have to leave. Come back anytime… minus the cologne. Unscented soap, shampoo, and lotion is also preferable."
"Noted. Before I go can I ask one more question?"
She nods as she ushers him towards the door. "Make it quick, before I ralph on you."
"Why are you using kid's toothpaste?"
"Because bubblegum is the only flavor of toothpaste that does not activate vomiting while I'm brushing my teeth."