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My eyebrows go up. “We?”

“Yeah.”

“You don't get to tell her she's not having a gender reveal.”

“I don't want one.” He crosses his arms stubbornly.

“She can still have one.” I turn to face him, mirroring his stance.

“Why?”

“Because she wants one?”

“So?”

“So it's her pregnancy.”

“Potentially with my kid.”

“Still coming out of her.”

His mouth tightens. “She doesn't need a party.”

“No one needs a gender reveal party. That doesn't mean she can't have one.”

“Why are you defending this?” His temper flares, voice going up an octave.

“I'm not defending anything.”

“It sounds like you are.” He snaps at me.

“Simon, it's her first baby.” I snap back. “And she should get to be excited.”

Something shifts in his expression.

I sigh. “Look, I know this pregnancy is complicated. But it's still her first pregnancy. She only gets one first baby.”

He doesn't respond.

I lean back against the sink.

“If she wants to buy a stupid balloon full of pink or blue confetti and have twenty people scream when it pops, she should.”

“She can find out at the ultrasound like a normal person.”

I laugh despite myself. “You're such an asshole.”

“I don't see why everything needs a fucking party.”

“You threw Theo a taco-themed birthday party with a custom balloon arch.”

“I don't want to play happy family with her.” He finally admits. “I don't want pictures of me standing next to her holding some fucking sign while everybody acts like we're having a baby together.”

“You might be having a baby together.”

His jaw tightens. “You know what I mean.”

Of course I do. There's a difference between acknowledging that a child could be his and performing a relationship with Veronica that doesn't exist.