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I nod.

Jamie narrows her eyes. “What happened?”

I don’t even know where to start. Thanksgiving feels like a month ago instead of four days.

“It was just…” I rub my forehead. “I don’t know. Everything was a lot.”

“Everything being the possible baby.”

I nod.

Jamie still doesn’t look happy about it.

I can’t blame her. If our positions were reversed, I’d be telling her to run so fast she’d leave a cartoon-shaped hole in the drywall.

“I know you think I’m an idiot." I mumble, not meeting her eyes.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot.”

“You think I should leave him.”

“Yes.”

I sigh. “I’m not going to.”

“I know.”

“And after Thanksgiving, I feel even more sure about that.”

Jamie’s mouth tightens. “Why?”

“Because I love him.”

“Blaire—”

“No. I know that isn’t enough by itself.” I pick at the edge of my phone case until a flake of plastic comes off under my nail. “I’m not saying we stay together and pretend none of this is happening because we’re in love. I’m saying I don’t think I could live with myself if I walked away before we even know what this is. If that baby is Simon’s, then it’s his child.”

“And Veronica will be in your life for the next eighteen years.”

“I know.”

“That’s a pretty significant footnote.”

“I’m aware. I’ve thought about all of it. Believe me. I’ve thought about it until I feel sick. And maybe I’ll feel differently when the baby’s born. Maybe when there’s a paternity test and an actual baby and this isn’t hypothetical anymore, it’ll be too much.”

Even saying it makes my chest hurt.

“But I need to see it through.”

“Why?” She gives me an exasperated look.

“Because what if I leave now and it isn’t his?”

Jamie doesn’t answer.

“What if I blow up our family over a baby that turns out to have nothing to do with him? Or what if it is his, and we could have figured it out? What if six months from now I’m sitting alone somewhere wondering whether I walked away from the person I love because I was scared?”

Jamie sighs.