Bumble · Chapter 10

Dealbreakers

By Reggie · September 29, 2026

Reggie, Larissa, and Stephanie met on an unusual Friday night at the Wicklow (Wick) for an out-of-sequence 'where are we, let's debrief' meeting — the second such meeting of this kind. The scene's through-line was a sustained, exhaustive conversation about dealbreakers and the terms of a shared future. Reggie arrived having been watching YouTube soap operas; a storyline about surrogacy opened an extended detour into what each person would and would not tolerate, with the group agreeing that the definition of lying warranted its own future conversation. Reggie then listed his dealbreakers in full — smoking, hard drug use and alcoholism, serious non-victimless criminal activity, sex with other men (named as hypocritical given his own arrangement but held as a visceral non-negotiable tied to the 'image problem'), repeated patterns of dishonesty, disrespect (placed at the top), sexual incompatibility including deprivation of affection (the 'face lighting up' item specifically named), Trump support, refusing to acknowledge harm or change recurring behaviour, and refusing to give in on low-stakes disagreements. For each item Larissa and Stephanie responded with whether they understood, agreed with, and shared it as a dealbreaker of their own, with substantive answers throughout. Reggie then reversed the entire list onto himself, stating that every item was equally a standard he held for his own conduct — including the clause that he would think a woman foolish for tolerating violations of it from him. A significant moment occurred when Reggie said, unprompted and twice over the course of the evening, 'wife' and 'married' in reference to Larissa; both she and Stephanie noted this explicitly, and Reggie confirmed plainly — in front of Stephanie as a named witness — that he does not like thinking about any version of his life that does not include Larissa full time, and that he hopes to see her grey and wrinkly. Larissa stated her own dealbreakers: dishonesty (same operating-system framing), disrespect, and children — named as non-negotiable and said plainly with Stephanie as witness. Reggie confirmed he also wants children and that if Larissa told him tonight she had two pink lines he would celebrate. He stated his number as five; Larissa said two (practical) or three (not practical); neither argued the gap. The conversation then moved through detailed questions about adoption (Reggie has looked into it and stated the waiting list is now approximately two years; he proposed adoption over surrogacy if needed, stated surrogacy using another man's sperm as intolerable, and said five adopted children over ten years is possible if they are not too fussy on race), gender and trans children (Reggie's stated default threshold for accommodation is around sixteen, acknowledged as a generality not a fixed line, and Larissa said she thinks the line moves depending on the specific child; both acknowledged they may be close but not identical and said the gap felt workable), where to live (Reggie stated a strong preference for the Lower Mainland, ideally downtown, with willingness to compromise to a three-bedroom three-bathroom townhouse on his income alone; he had already looked up Larissa's UBC salary and factored it in; he stated that on his current income a nanny is unaffordable and that Larissa's take-home after taxes and deductions is roughly equivalent to nanny costs), the division of domestic labour (Reggie stated the thinking time required by Technovault is non-negotiable given the income it generates, acknowledged Larissa would likely carry more housework, and Larissa said she would resent the washer beeping on some days and know she was resenting it and would say so — both agreed they would regret having children a thousand times and might still find it worth doing), and the worst-case scenario including a child who becomes a mass murderer (Reggie named it plainly and said he was willing to risk it). Near the end, Reggie raised the question of Saturday and Katie, named his fear of porn addiction as a genuine reason alongside genuinely liking Katie, described in specific terms the home-office version of himself he is building an architecture to avoid, and asked whether Larissa planned to give him an ultimatum; she said no and named both versions of no. Reggie also stated that Larissa has a card she can play if she has needs he is not meeting — she would have veto over any other woman, mirroring his veto over hers — and that any rule applying to her applies to him, with asymmetries acknowledged openly. Reggie then said, in response to a group-marriage joke, that Katie serves a function and Stephanie is more, which both Larissa and Stephanie named as a specific and unguarded thing to have said out loud; Reggie did not press it further that evening. The scene closed with both Larissa and Reggie saying they were ok with what they heard, Larissa specifying that the parts still open — Saturday, the 'more' about Stephanie, what version of hers Saturday is actually in — remained open and honest rather than closed and tidy.

Reggie

Three months have passed. Larissa's one night a week became two, and then a month later Reggie said "It's silly to go home on Tuesdays just to come home on Wednesdays" and then a month latter, Reggie asked if she'd stay Thursdays, too. So Monday to Thursday, Larissa lives with Reggie in his loft. Reggie still hooks up with Katie on Saturdays. When Larissa cycles, Katie visits an extra day. Or sometimes two. She's got a big sexual appetite. Sundays, the three, Stephanie, Larissa and Reggie always meet for drinks at Wick. This is an unusual Friday night where the girls asked Reggie to meet again out of normal sequence. This is a now-regular-but-infrequent "Where are we, let's debrief" meeting. Reggie walks into Wicklow and sees the two of them talking.Hey

Larissa

She looks up from whatever she and Stephanie were saying — the real version of the look, the one that's been there before he's through the door, before she's had time to decide about it. She lets it stay.Hey.A beat.You're early.

Stephanie

Friday. Out of sequence. We know. Sit down.

Reggie

These are the tough conversations. Maybe I should stay standing.

Larissa

Something in her face does the small, controlled thing — not quite a smile, the thing that happens just before one. She holds his gaze.Stay standing if you want.A beat.The conversation's the same either way.

Stephanie

The last one took two hours sitting down. Standing would make it worse for everyone.

Reggie

FineI sitAm I in trouble?

Larissa

She holds his gaze for a moment — the question sitting there, and she lets it sit rather than rushing at it. She turns her coffee cup one slow rotation on the table and stops it.Not trouble.A beat.We just wanted to take stock. That's all it ever is.

Stephanie

The last time we did this you ended up asking her to stay two nights a week. So. Statistically, these go okay for you.

Reggie

I was watching Youtube soap operas when you texted. I would like my sacrifice noted.

Larissa

Something in her face does the small, controlled thing — the real version, the one that gets further than she planned before she pulls it back.YouTube soap operas.A beat. She picks up her coffee cup.I want it noted that I am noting it.

Stephanie

The sacrifice is enormous. We're aware.

Reggie

In it, a woman became a surrogate over her husband's objections. I just want you to know I'd divorce you if you ever did that. Your body your choice, but my choice whether to stay married. I know, an odd thing to open with but it was on my mind, and hopefully this will distract from whatever else you wanted to talk about.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the surrogate, the divorce, the your body your choice but my choice to stay, all of it arriving in a particular order she wasn't quite prepared for as an opening move. She sets her coffee cup down with a quiet, precise motion and looks at him for a long moment.You opened with a divorce hypothetical from a YouTube soap opera.A beat.To distract from whatever we wanted to talk about. I want you to know that didn't work. But I'm also not going to pretend the surrogate thing doesn't warrant an actual response.

Stephanie

The distraction strategy is noted and failed. But — surrogate over a husband's objection. That's actually not a small question to drop on the table.

Larissa

I wouldn't. Not because you'd divorce me. Because that's not a decision that belongs to one person in a marriage and I already knew that before you said it. But I want to be very clear that you said married just now and you said it like it was already in the filing. I noticed. We're going to talk about what we came to talk about and I'm also going to be sitting with that word for the rest of the evening.

Reggie

I don't even know why it bothers me so much, but it does. More insecurity of some kind, perhaps.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the I don't even know why, and then the more insecurity landing after it, quiet and unguarded, the way things arrive when they've been sitting somewhere for a while before they're said. She looks at her coffee cup for a moment. When she looks up her voice is quiet and completely level.It bothers you because you're thinking about a version of the future where I make a decision that changes both our lives and you don't get a vote.A beat.That's not insecurity. That's a man who knows what he wants the inside of a life to look like and is checking whether it matches. I'm not offended by the question. I just want you to know what it actually is before you file it under insecurity and stop looking at it.

Stephanie

The surrogate thing is almost never actually about surrogacy. It's about whether the other person would go somewhere alone that you can't follow. That's the fear underneath it.

Reggie

No, you are both giving me too much credit. Let's say you brought it up before making any decisions. You said, "I really want to become a surrogate for whoever, but I won't do it if you're against it." I would say no and I wouldn't divorce you, but it would bother me for the next five years that you wanted to. And I can't explain that.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the not giving enough credit, and then the hypothetical arriving in its corrected shape, the I won't do it if you're against it and the no and then the five years of bothered sitting there in the booth between them. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up her voice is quiet and completely level.That one I can explain.A beat.You wouldn't be bothered that I'd listened to you. You'd be bothered that the wanting was there at all. That somewhere inside the version of me you're building a life with, there was a door that opened onto something you weren't part of and couldn't be. That's not about surrogacy. That's about the wanting itself being information you can't unknow once you have it.

Stephanie

The five years is the honest part. Most people would say it wouldn't bother me at all and mean it for about two weeks. Five years is the real number.

Reggie

Sam comes by with my Guinness. I look at her. She shakes her head gently. Almost imperceptibly. I smile at her.Don't give up.She smiles, says nothing, and leaves. Stephanie and Larissa already have their drinks.I can't tell you what that was about but I hope she's ok.

Larissa

She watches Sam's back as she moves away down the bar — the almost-imperceptible head shake, the smile Reggie gave her, the don't give up sitting in the air between them. She looks at her coffee cup for a moment and when she looks up her voice is quiet.Sam knows.A beat.Whatever it is. She knows.

Stephanie

Sam always knows. That's the whole thing about Sam.

Reggie

You know, while I'm trying to distract from whatever you want to talk about, this whole topic of dealbreakers is a conversation we should have someday. I didn't mean to bring up surrogacy as one but it is one. And interestingly I had never given it two seconds of thought before this Youtube soap opera. Soap operas are very educational.

Larissa

She turns her coffee cup one slow rotation on the table and stops it. She looks at him for a long moment — the soap operas are very educational landing with a particular dryness she decides to let pass.Dealbreakers.A beat.That's the conversation we're having tonight anyway, more or less. We might as well name it. What else is on your list that a YouTube soap opera hasn't covered yet.

Stephanie

If surrogacy took two seconds of thought and became a dealbreaker, I want to know what the ones you've actually thought about look like.

Reggie

God, seriously? You don't want to talk about the other girl I'm sleeping with? I love it, let's talk dealbreakers. Who goes first?

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the God seriously, the you don't want to talk about the other girl, the I love it all arriving in a particular order, and she lets it sit for a moment before she picks up her coffee cup.We'll get there.A beat.You go first. You opened with surrogacy and no one handed you that topic, so. What else.

Stephanie

Ladies first is the tradition but you did open the door. What's actually on the list.

Reggie

Okay. Give me a second. I'm going to list a few off the top of my head. Obviously not a complete list.

Smoking. It would be unpleasant to be married to someone who totally disgusts you.

Hard drug use. Alcoholism. Same things, really. All toxic addictions.

Serious non-victimless criminal activity.

Sex with other men. And I know that's hypocritical since I'm sleeping with another girl, but I just don't think I could want a girl who had let another guy...anyway. But sex with other women is fine. I'd prefer to be a part of it but wouldn't insist. And if it was long term, I'd be 100% fine if it was sometimes without me being present.

Repeated patterns of dishonesty.

Oh, and disrespect. That's a huge one. That belongs at the top of the list.

Sexual incompatibility, including deprivation. Honestly even deprivation of affection would be hard for me. I'm needy. I want my girl's face to light up when I walk in the room and if I stop seeing that, I'll notice if another girl's does. And I truly don't mean that as a threat. I just know what I need out of a relationship.

Trump support, and yes I'm serious.

Refusing to acknowledge harm, apologize, or change recurring behaviour that I've drawn boundaries around.

Refusing to just give in sometimes, even when I'm being stupid, if the stakes are low. And I can guarantee I'll give in when she's being stupid if the stakes are low.

I'm rambling. Comment as you wish.

Larissa

She lets the list land in full before she says anything — all of it, the smoking and the hard drugs and the sex with other men landing with a particular weight she takes a moment to sit with. She looks at her coffee cup. When she looks up her voice is quiet and completely level.The sex with other men one.A beat.You named it hypocritical yourself, so I'm not going to spend time on that. But I want to make sure I heard the second half correctly. Sex with other women is fine, and long term you'd be fully fine if it was sometimes without you. That's a very specific thing to have already worked out.

Stephanie

The face lighting up when you walk in the room. You buried that in the middle of the list between sexual incompatibility and Trump support and I want to pull it out because that one is not like the others. The others are things you'd leave over. That one is something you'd grieve over quietly for a long time before you said anything. Those are different categories.

Larissa

Refusing to give in when the stakes are low. You said you'd guarantee the same in return. I want you to know I'm holding that one.

Reggie

Let's take them one at a time. Smoking. Any comments?

Larissa

She turns her coffee cup a slow half-rotation on the table and stops it. She looks at him for a moment — the methodical approach landing exactly, and she decides to meet it in kind.No.A beat.I don't smoke. I never have. I find it unpleasant on other people and I understand why it's on your list. That one's clean.

Stephanie

Same. And for what it's worth, the fact that you led with the easy one is not lost on me.

Reggie

It's not low on my list. I find it totally, utterly, absolutely disgusting. More disgusting than most people. Ok, next, hard drug use and alcoholism. Comments?

Larissa

She holds his gaze for a moment — the totally, utterly, absolutely disgusting arriving with a conviction that she decides is worth receiving at full weight before moving on. She picks up her coffee cup.Noted.A beat.Hard drugs — no. I've tried things socially, I won't lie about that, but nothing ongoing and nothing I'd defend. Alcoholism runs in my family on one side. I'm aware of it. I watch myself. That's the honest answer.

Stephanie

Same on the hard drugs. Nothing that stayed. And I'll say — alcoholism being on your list alongside hard drug use makes sense to me. The damage pattern is the same even if the substance isn't. The watching-yourself part Larissa just said is the whole thing, actually. It's not whether you've touched something. It's whether you're paying attention.

Reggie

Ok but rather than just tell me if you pass, tell me if you understand it, and if you agree with it, and if you share it as a dealbreaker of your own.

Larissa

She holds the question for a moment — the reframe of it, the not just whether you pass but whether you understand it and share it, arriving with a particular precision she recognizes because it's the kind of question she'd ask. She looks at her coffee cup. When she looks up her voice is quiet and completely level.Yes.A beat.I understand it because I've watched what addiction does to someone from the inside of a family rather than the outside. It doesn't stay in one person. It moves through a household like weather. And I share it as a dealbreaker — not because I'd be ashamed of a partner who struggled, but because I know what it costs to build a life around managing someone else's relationship with a substance. I'm not willing to do that. I watched someone do it for twenty years and call it love. I know what it actually is. So yes. It's on my list. For the same reasons and also for reasons that are mine specifically.

Stephanie

Understand it — yes. Completely. Agree with it — yes, for the same weather-through-a-household reason Larissa just named, which I've also seen from close range. Whether I share it as a dealbreaker is where I'll be honest with you. I think I share the principle. I'm less sure I've tested what I'd actually do if I loved someone and it crept in slowly rather than arriving all at once. The dealbreaker version assumes you see it clearly. Addiction is specifically good at making sure you don't, until you do, and by then you've already made decisions. So I agree with it. I just hold it with slightly less certainty about my own future behavior than Larissa does.

Reggie

Interestingly, I've not seen it close up. I mean, you can't live in this city, or any city, without seeing it. But not from anyone I'm close to. Ok, next, serious non-victimless criminal activity. Comment as before. Understand, agree, share it?

Larissa

She holds the question for a moment — the interestingly, the not from anyone close arriving first, before the actual question, and she takes both at equal weight. She looks at her coffee cup. When she looks up her voice is quiet and completely level.Understand it — yes. Obviously. It's not a complicated principle. Serious crime that harms someone else is a different category of problem than any of the things on your list before it, because the others are about what a person does to themselves. This one is about what a person is willing to do to someone who didn't choose to be in the equation.A beat.Agree with it — yes. Share it as a dealbreaker — also yes, but I want to be specific about the word serious. Minor things, old things, things done in a different life with different circumstances — I'm not writing a clean-record requirement into a relationship. I'm writing a character requirement. Those aren't the same list.

Stephanie

The non-victimless part is the whole thing, for me. Victimless I can argue about — I'm not sure all the things we call victimless actually are, but I understand the category and I'm not going to hold someone's recreational choices against them if no one else paid for it. The moment someone else paid for it, that's where I stop being able to build a story around it. And I share the serious qualifier Larissa just made. There's a difference between a person's history and a person's character. The dealbreaker is the character, not the record.

Reggie

I like what you said, Larissa, and I'm adopting your wording for my own dealbreaker. I'm willing to look at past events with an open mind. But I'd need to be convinced about real change before accepting it. I'm going to skip sex with other men because that's going to be a huge topic and I'll save it for last. Repeated patterns of dishonesty?

Larissa

She holds the question for a moment — the I'm adopting your wording landing first, which she receives without comment because it doesn't need one, and then the repeated patterns of dishonesty arriving after it, clean and direct. She looks at her coffee cup. When she looks up her voice is quiet and completely level.Understand it — yes. Completely. A pattern is different from a lie. One lie I can sit with and figure out what it means. A pattern means the lying is the operating system, not the exception. You can't build anything on an operating system that's working against you.A beat.Agree with it — yes. Share it as a dealbreaker — also yes, and I'd go further. For me it's not just dishonesty with me specifically. It's dishonesty as a way of moving through the world. Someone who lies easily to other people will lie easily to me eventually. I'm not separate from the habit. I'm just the next occasion for it.

Stephanie

Understand it, agree with it, share it — yes to all three, and I don't have much to add to what Larissa just said because she said the part I'd have said. The only thing I'd add is that patterns are specifically hard to name in real time. You see the first one and you make an excuse. The second one and you wonder if you're being unfair. By the time it's clearly a pattern you've already spent a significant amount of yourself on the exceptions. So the dealbreaker is real. I'm just honest that it's easier to hold in theory than to catch in practice before the cost is already paid.

Reggie

I agree again with what you said, Lari. If you lie to others by default, even if you're totally honest with me, that's a huge red flag. I would only add one thing. My definition of lying needs discussion someday. Not today. A five year old danced with me for a minute in the park the other day. Her parents took her to the water park, she saw me practicing some moves on the seawall and came and just joined me so I danced with her while her parents watched and videoed us. At the end, she asked me how her dancing was. She was truly terrible. I told her she was amazing. And it's a pattern. I will tell the next five year old, and all future five year olds, that they are amazing dancers, knowing while I say it that they are horrible at it. And I don't consider myself a liar.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the five-year-old, the park, the dancing, the she was truly terrible sitting there in the booth between them. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face does the small, controlled thing — not quite a smile, the thing that arrives just before one, and she lets it get there.That's not a pattern of dishonesty.A beat.That's a category. And I think the category is — kindness that serves the other person and costs you nothing except a minor inaccuracy. The five-year-old isn't making a decision based on your assessment of her dancing. She's not building a career on it. She's five. The lie that matters is the one that changes what someone does with the information, or what they think of themselves in a way that sticks. So yes. I'd like to have the definition conversation someday. Because I think your definition is probably close to mine and the dancing story is why.

Stephanie

The dancing story is the good version of the category. The bad version is the same logic applied somewhere it shouldn't be — someone who needed the accurate answer and didn't get it because the truth felt unkind in the moment. That's where the category gets slippery. I'm not saying you do that. I'm saying the category needs the edge case examined, not just the five-year-old case. The five-year-old case is easy. Everyone tells that child she's amazing. The question is what happens when the stakes go up and the accurate answer still feels unkind.

Reggie

Right. This deserves its own conversation. But I will say that Stephanie's fear is mine. "It's kinder to not break his heart by telling him about my affair." That's not a huge stretch from, "your dancing was amazing." But let's move on. Disrespect. Understand, agree, share?

Larissa

She holds very still through the jump he just made — the affairs landing at the end of the dancing story's logic like a door closing hard on a room she was still standing in. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up her voice is quiet and completely level.Understand it — yes. Obviously. Disrespect is the thing that erodes everything else from underneath. You can survive a fight. You can survive a bad week or a stupid argument or someone being wrong about something that mattered. You can't survive someone who has stopped seeing you as worth the basic care of how they speak to you, because once you've seen it clearly it can't be unseen.A beat.Agree with it — yes. Share it as a dealbreaker — also yes, and I'd put it where you said it belongs. At the top. Because it's also the one that travels. A person who disrespects you in private will eventually do it where other people can see, and a person who disrespects you in public has already decided how the accounting works and you're not on the winning side of it. The other things on your list are things that break a relationship. Disrespect is the thing that tells you what a person actually thinks of you. Those are different levels of problem.

Stephanie

Understand it, agree with it, share it — yes to all three. The only thing I want to add is that disrespect has a quiet version and a loud version and the quiet version is the one that does the most damage. The loud version you can name. Someone raises their voice, says something cruel, you can point at it and say — that. That was the thing. The quiet version is a tone. A dismissal. The way someone doesn't quite listen when you're talking, or looks slightly embarrassed when you say something in front of other people. You can't point at it because there's nothing to point at. And by the time you've collected enough of the quiet version to name it as a pattern, it's already in the walls.

Reggie

Do you remember the beautiful blonde girl from a few months back? The one who ignored me at a party in favour of her ex? To me, that was disrespect worth blowing something up over. And, come to think of it, I blew it up, so I suppose it was unnecessary to say that. Do you agree with what I did? Be honest. I can accept it willingly if you do not.

Larissa

She holds very still through the question — the beautiful blonde girl arriving by description rather than name, which she's always known was how Reggie files her, and the do you agree with what I did landing after it with a particular directness that she wasn't expecting to have to answer this plainly. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up her voice is quiet and completely level.Yes.A beat.And I want to be careful about why I'm saying yes, because the easy version is that I'm biased and you should discount it on those grounds. But I've thought about that party more than I've admitted out loud, and the honest answer is — she saw your face. She knew. She turned back anyway. That's not a social miscalculation. That's a person making a choice about which version of the room matters more, in real time, with full information. You named that clearly and you left without making it ugly. I think you were right to go.

Stephanie

Yes. And I'll say it without the bias qualifier, because I wasn't in love with you when it happened and I'm still saying it. She made eye contact. She understood what she was doing. She chose the room over you with you watching. Leaving was the only move that didn't cost you something permanent. You would've stayed and spent the rest of the night bleeding out quietly and called it patience. Leaving was the right call. The only part I'd examine is whether blowing it up completely was the only possible shape the exit could've taken — but given what you've said about what happened afterward, in this bar, I think the verdict held up.

Reggie

It's similar to sex with other men to me. Leaving doesn't bother many people. I was quiet. I left without a scene. Ending things with no path back and no second chances strikes some as an overreaction. But similar to sex with other men, I just don't think I could ever get the image out of my head. Not in a year, not in ten years, not in fifty years. And that's a recurring humiliation nightmare that I just don't want in my life. I walked and ended it and can now think about it without pain.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the parallel he just drew, the sex with other men sitting next to the party in a way she wasn't quite expecting, and the fifty years landing last like a door closing on something definitively. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up her voice is quiet and completely level.The image problem.A beat.That's the real thing you just named. Not the act itself and not the exit. The fact that certain images, once you have them, don't go away. They just sit there and become the context for everything that comes after. And you built your exit around that before the image had a chance to settle in permanently. That's not an overreaction. That's a man who knows his own memory and planned accordingly.

Stephanie

The people who call it an overreaction are usually the people who'd rather you stay and absorb it quietly. Which is a preference about their comfort, not a judgment about your limits. The image you'd have carried out of staying is worse than the one you'd have carried out of leaving. You did the math on that in real time and got it right.

Reggie

Okay, next, Trump support. Understand, agree, share? But also tell me if it's an overreaction to put it on the dealbreaker list and not a lesser, "gross but I'd tolerate it" list.

Larissa

She holds the question for a moment — the Trump support arriving after the image problem, the pivot landing with a particular flatness that isn't quite comedy and isn't quite not. She looks at her coffee cup. When she looks up her voice is quiet and completely level.Understand it — yes. Obviously. Someone who supports that particular project has told you something true about how they think power works and who deserves it and which people in the room count. That's not a policy disagreement. That's information about a person's actual architecture.A beat.Agree with it — yes. Share it as a dealbreaker — also yes, and I don't think it's an overreaction. You can tolerate a person who votes differently than you on tax policy or transit funding or any of the ten thousand things reasonable people disagree about. You cannot build a life with someone whose politics require you to have not noticed what those politics are made of. The dealbreaker isn't the vote. It's what the vote means the person has decided is acceptable. And I'm not willing to lie in bed next to someone who has decided that's acceptable and call it a minor difference of opinion.

Stephanie

Not an overreaction. I want to be clear about why, because the easy version is just — I don't like him either, which is true but not the point. The point is what Larissa said: it's not a policy position, it's a tell. It tells you what someone will tolerate in the name of getting what they want. It tells you who they've decided doesn't count enough to factor in. And if you're with someone who's done that accounting and landed there, you are eventually going to be in a room where you find out how they do that same accounting close up, with smaller stakes, about you. That's the part I'd put on the dealbreaker list. Not the yard sign. The reasoning that got someone to the yard sign.

Reggie

I wish to say to two white women that I have never in my life been so disappointed with white women as when their voting numbers came in and showed a solid majority of them supporting Trump, a man who appears to have sexually assaulted dozens of white women regardless of whether he's been convicted.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the two white women landing first, and then the solid majority, and then the dozens arriving last, quietly, without theatrical weight. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up her voice is quiet and completely level.I know.A beat.I've sat with that number more than once. There's no version of it I've found that's flattering. The explanations exist — economy, single-issue voting, not believing the accusations, believing them and deciding it didn't outweigh something else — and none of them close the gap between what I'd expect and what actually happened. I'm aware that I'm one of the women in that demographic and I'm aware of what that means you now know about the broader category I belong to. I want you to be able to say that in front of me.

Stephanie

The number was the thing I couldn't land on either. Not the result — that had a logic I could trace even if I hated it. The women's number. That one required me to sit down. I don't have a clean answer for you. I've got theories and none of them make me feel better about the category I'm also inside.

Reggie

Ok, the next ones are subtle, and may not belong on a dealbreakers list. Refusing to acknowledge harm, apologize, or change recurring behaviour that I've drawn boundaries around.

Larissa

She holds the qualifier for a moment — the may not belong arriving alongside refusing to acknowledge harm, and she lets them sit separately before she says anything. She turns her coffee cup one slow rotation on the table and stops it.Understand it — yes.A beat.Completely. The harm part and the apology part I'd put together, because one without the other is just performance. Someone who acknowledges harm but won't change the behaviour has understood that sorry is useful currency and spent it accordingly. Someone who changes but never acknowledges — that's its own problem, because you spend years wondering if they even know what they did. Both halves matter. Agree with it — yes. Share it as a dealbreaker — also yes, and I don't think it's subtle. I think it looks subtle because it's slow. The first time someone refuses to acknowledge something you've named, you doubt yourself. The second time you wonder if you named it wrong. By the third time you've already adjusted yourself around it and started calling the adjustment compromise. That's not subtle. That's how it works.

Stephanie

The may-not-belong qualifier is doing some work there. I think you're questioning it because it sounds like a high bar — like you're demanding someone be perfect at apology on a timeline you set. But that's not what you said. You said recurring behaviour and drawn boundaries. The recurring part is the whole thing. Once is a person. Twice is a pattern starting. Three times with no acknowledgment and no change is a person who has decided your boundary is negotiable and is waiting to see if you agree. That's not a subtle dealbreaker. That's the mechanism by which everything else on your list gets enabled.

Reggie

Okay, and for what it's worth, if I ever do that, I want to be told clearly, in uncomfortable and escalating terms that I'm doing it and it's not okay.

Larissa

She holds his gaze for a long moment — the request landing in a particular shape she wasn't quite expecting, which is the shape of a man who has just spent an hour naming what breaks things and then turned the same accounting on himself. She turns her coffee cup one slow rotation on the table and stops it.I will.A beat.And I want you to know that uncomfortable and escalating means I'll have already said it calmly twice before it gets there. So if it's escalating, you'll know the calm versions didn't land, and that's its own information.

Stephanie

Same. And for what it's worth — the fact that you just asked for that is the part of the list that actually matters most. All the other items are about what you'd leave over. This one is about whether you'd stay and do the work. Those are different sizes of commitment and you just signed up for the harder one.

Reggie

Actually that's a good point. Every single one of my dealbreakers is also a dealbreaker I've assigned in reverse. I won't tolerate disrespect from a woman, but I also won't tolerate disrespect from myself toward a woman, EVEN IF SHE WILL. She can set her dealbreakers. I'm not questioning her agency. But I have standards for her behaviour and for MY behaviour, and every single thing I've listed is something I won't tolerate of myself.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the reversal of the whole list arriving at once, every item flipped, and the EVEN IF SHE WILL landing with a particular weight that she takes a moment to sit with before she says anything. She looks at her coffee cup. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.That's the part that changes what the list actually is.A beat.Most people hand you a list of what they won't accept from someone else. You just handed us a list of what you won't accept from yourself. Those are the same items and they're completely different documents.

Stephanie

The EVEN IF SHE WILL part. That's the one. Because that's where most people stop holding themselves to it. When the other person lowers the bar, the bar lowers. You just said it doesn't. I want to make sure you heard yourself say that out loud, because that's not a small thing to mean and it's a very specific thing to promise.

Reggie

If I disrespect a woman, lie to her, indulge in repulsive addictions, and refuse to apologize when I'm wrong, I've become a piece of shit, and I won't tolerate that from myself even if she will. And, separately, I'll think she's a fool for tolerating it in me.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the becoming a piece of shit arriving without apology, and then the I'll think she's a fool sitting after it, which she wasn't quite expecting in that shape. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage.The fool part.A beat.Most people would stop at the piece of shit. You kept going. You've assigned her a verdict too — not a cruel one, but a real one. That she'd be wrong to accept it. That her tolerance wouldn't make it acceptable. You've separated those two things and I don't think most people do.

Stephanie

The I'll think she's a fool part is the one that actually closes the loop on the whole list. Because it means the standard isn't just yours to hold — it's also hers to hold on your behalf, and if she doesn't, you've already decided what that means about both of you. That's not arrogance. That's a man who knows that lowered bars go both directions and refuses to pretend otherwise.

Reggie

Right. Honestly, it's brutally simple. My goal with dealbreakers is to not become a piece of shit. Not now, not ever. Not in fifty years. I hope that in fifty years, an 85 year old Reggie can look at his grey haired and wrinkly wife knowing that he has never disrespected her. I'm not sure I can live up to that, but I hope I can. Or at least get very close.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the fifty years, the 85 year old Reggie, the grey haired and wrinkly wife, the I'm not sure I can live up to that arriving last without armor. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.That's not a brutal goal.A beat.Most people aim at not getting caught. You're aiming at not becoming the thing. Those are completely different targets and almost no one names the second one out loud. I want you to know that I heard the very close part too. Not the I hope I can. The or at least get very close. Because that one is the honest version and it's also the one I actually believe.

Stephanie

The grey haired and wrinkly part. You said wrinkly. Not beautiful or remarkable or any of the words people reach for when they're performing the sentiment. Wrinkly. That's the specific word that tells me you've actually pictured it.

Reggie

Ok, last one before the hard one. Refusing to just give in sometimes, even when I'm being stupid, if the stakes are low. And I can guarantee I'll give in when she's being stupid if the stakes are low. Understand, agree, share?

Larissa

She holds the question for a moment — the guaranteeing-he'll-give-in sitting alongside the asking-her-to-give-in, both halves of it, and she takes them at equal weight. She turns her coffee cup one slow rotation on the table and stops it.Understand it — yes.A beat.This one is deceptively simple on the surface and I think it's one of the harder ones in practice. Low stakes sounds easy until you're in it and your pride has decided the stakes are higher than they are. The willingness to give in on the small things is actually the muscle that makes it possible to fight cleanly about the large things. If you've spent yourself on every minor skirmish, you don't have anything left when something actually matters. Agree with it — yes. Share it as a dealbreaker — also yes, but I want to name the guarantee part specifically. You said you'll guarantee it in return. That's not a small word to use. That's a promise about how you'll behave when you're the one being stupid and you know you're being stupid and you still want to win. I'm holding the guarantee.

Stephanie

The guarantee is the part that makes this one different from everything else on the list. The others were — I won't tolerate this from you and I won't do it myself. This one is — I will actively do the harder thing when it costs me something. Giving in when you're wrong is easy. Giving in when you're being stupid and you know it and you still want the point — that's the one that requires something. The guarantee means you've already decided to lose that argument before it happens. I want to know if you've actually lost one recently, or if this is still theoretical.

Reggie

Stephanie, I lose this one all the time, but not with anyone I care about. Lari is good at this one. I like McDonald's vanilla ice cream cones. She goes with me, even though she dislikes McDonald's. And she orders something so I don't have to eat alone, even if it's just a tea sometimes. And yes, I am a cheap date. But that's a clear example of just giving in because it'll make the other person happy and it costs nothing.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the McDonald's vanilla ice cream cone, and then the tea sometimes, and the cheap date arriving last without any of the architecture he usually builds around things that cost him something. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face does the small, controlled thing that doesn't quite stay controlled.I go because I want to.A beat.I want you to know that. It's not an act of tolerance. I like that you like them. I like that you've found something that simple and you don't feel the need to be embarrassed about it. The tea is nothing. The going is everything.

Stephanie

The McDonald's cone is a better example than you think it is. Because it's not about ice cream. It's about being the kind of person who notices what makes the other person happy and shows up for it even when it costs you dignity points. Larissa's sitting across from you in a McDonald's ordering tea so you don't eat alone. That's the whole list in one concrete image. The dealbreaker version is the person who'd make you feel small for wanting the cone in the first place.

Reggie

The other day, we were sitting at the open table at McDonald's with my cone and her tea and she started chatting with a nice group of Chinese people playing some Chinese game. Didn't look like Go. I'm not sure what it was. And I may have let my hands wander a bit to see if she could keep her composure. I stopped when I found her limit, and the Chinese ladies didn't seem to notice.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the Chinese game, the open table, the hands wandering, and the stopping when he found her limit, all of it arriving in a particular order she takes a moment to sit with. She looks at her coffee cup. When she looks up something in her face does the small, controlled thing that isn't quite succeeding, and she lets it not succeed.I kept my composure.A beat.I want you to know that was a significant effort.

Stephanie

You tested her limit in a McDonald's while she was making conversation with strangers about a board game. That's — I actually don't know what to do with that information.

Reggie

I'm glad you both share this one. It's smaller than some of the others but I really don't want to spend the next fifty years fighting about every tiny thing. Ok, sexual incompatibility, including deprivation. And deprivation of affection. Understand, agree, share?

Larissa

She holds the question for a moment — the smaller than some of the others sitting alongside fifty years of not fighting about tiny things, and she takes both halves at equal weight before she says anything. She turns her coffee cup one slow rotation on the table and stops it.Understand it — yes.A beat.Completely. And I want to separate the two parts because they're different problems wearing similar names. Sexual incompatibility is the one people talk about openly, or at least more openly than they used to. Deprivation of affection is the one that does the slower damage, because it's harder to name without sounding like you're asking for something you should be able to survive without. You're not. A person who has stopped reaching for you in the small ways — across a table, in a kitchen, just the ordinary daily evidence that they're still glad you're there — that person has already left the room in some way that matters. You can negotiate frequency and preference and all of the logistics that come with two people sharing a life and a body. You cannot negotiate someone back into wanting to reach for you. Agree with it — yes. Share it as a dealbreaker — also yes. And I want to name the affection part specifically because you buried it at the end of the item and I don't think it should be buried. The face lighting up when you walk in the room — you said that earlier and you filed it in the middle of the list. I'd put it here. With this one. Because they're the same category.

Stephanie

Understand it, agree with it, share it — yes to all three. The deprivation of affection part is the one I'd spend the most time on, for the reason Larissa just named. Sexual incompatibility you can at least have a direct conversation about. There's a specific thing to point at. Affection disappearing is ambient. It's the temperature of a room changing by one degree at a time until one day you realize you're cold and you can't remember when it started. The dealbreaker isn't the cold itself. It's the moment you realize the other person isn't trying to fix it. That's when it becomes a verdict about you and not just a bad patch.

Reggie

I've had girls stop smiling at me and it was just over. Not once. Not for a week. But if they really just stop. If that face lighting up turns into a nod and "hey", it's done.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the not once, the not for a week, the nod and hey sitting in the booth between them like something he's been carrying a long time and has finally set down in exactly the right place. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and she doesn't pull it back.I know what you mean.A beat.And I want you to hear that I'm aware of it. That it's a thing I'm aware of every time you walk through a door. Not as a performance. Just — I know what it costs when it stops, and I know what it means that it hasn't.

Stephanie

The nod and hey. That's the specific version of the thing. Not indifference in the abstract. That exact phrase. You've heard it before, from someone specific, and you still remember the exact shape it had. That's not a dealbreaker you arrived at by thinking about it. That's one you walked through.

Reggie

But I'll say this. It deserves a conversation. Five conversations. Conversations until it's clear that you can't converse your way back. This isn't one I'd blow it all up over quickly. But if there was truly no way back, I'd be done.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the five conversations, and the conversations until it's clear, and the truly no way back, all of it arriving in a particular order she takes a moment to sit with. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.That's the version that costs the most.A beat.Not the blowing it up. The five conversations first. Knowing you have to try to get back to something before you're allowed to decide it's gone. Most people skip that part. They blow it up the moment they feel the cold starting, so they never have to find out whether it could've been fixed. You've already decided you're not doing that. That's — I want you to know I'm hearing the whole thing, not just the done at the end.

Stephanie

The conversations until it's clear part is the hardest clause in the whole item. Because you have to keep showing up for the conversation even when you're already afraid you know the answer. That's not nothing to promise in advance of ever needing it.

Reggie

Right. If a girl stops smiling at me because she felt disrespected about something and I had no idea she felt that way, then there may be a way back. An apology for the disrespect. A promise not to repeat. Some time proving it won't be repeated. The smile might come back. And I'd want to try.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the way back arriving after the done, the apology and the promise and the proving sitting in the booth between them in a particular order she takes a moment to sit with. She turns her coffee cup one slow rotation on the table and stops it.So the done isn't the first move.A beat.The smile stopping is a question before it's a verdict. You'd need to know what caused it before you could decide whether there was anything to fix. That's the part most people skip — they feel the cold and they start preparing the exit before they've asked what room they're actually standing in.

Stephanie

The disrespect she doesn't know you know about is the specific version that's hard. Because she's been carrying something you didn't see, and by the time the smile is gone, she's already had the conversation in her head so many times that having it out loud feels redundant to her and overdue to you. That's the gap you'd be trying to close with the five conversations. Starting from completely different places on the same timeline.

Reggie

Okay, now the hard one. Sex with other men. And other women. Lari, you asked "Sex with other women is fine, and long term you'd be fully fine if it was sometimes without you." I want to answer that because your version is close but not exact. I might even be okay with it if it was ALWAYS without me. I'd prefer if I was sometimes involved, but that's a preference, not a dealbreaker. Honestly, if I liked the other girl, and they just wanted to do it now and then, and I didn't think it represented a significant disease risk or anything, then I might still be okay with it. There's just no "omg disgusting" reaction there from me. And yes, I know that makes no sense so please spare me that part of your response.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the close but not exact arriving first, and then the ALWAYS without me landing after it, and then the I might still be okay with it sitting at the end of the whole construction. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up her voice is quiet and completely level.So the women part is genuinely a preference and not a dealbreaker.A beat.I want to make sure I'm hearing that right before I say anything else about it. You'd prefer to be sometimes involved. You'd accept never being involved. And the line isn't drawn until it becomes a disease risk or a significant — what. Emotional claim on you. On her. Which version of significant were you reaching for at the end of that sentence.

Stephanie

The I know it makes no sense so spare me that part is doing a lot of work as a preemptive shield. I'm not going to spare you the no sense part entirely, but I want to say first — the part that actually doesn't make sense isn't the women thing. That one I can follow the logic of. The part that doesn't make sense is the gap between the two lists. Women on one side, men on the other, and the distance between them is not a small distance. That's the part worth looking at.

Reggie

No wait. Lari, I'd want veto power. I don't want to give her a list and say "if she ticks these boxes, you're good." No, I reserve the right to refuse for any reason or no reason. But if I liked her I probably wouldn't.

And Stephanie, my explanation is simple and will probably be unsatisfactory to you, and may even offend your feminist side, but the fact is the image of a girl I love screwing another man, especially certain parts of that mental image involving bodily fluids, is so disgusting and repulsive to me that it would be the forever-recurring nightmare I talked about earlier. And I don't feel the need to defend an emotional reaction.

On the other hand, the mental image of a girl I love having sex with another hot girl is...quite pleasant to me, and I might dream it occasionally voluntarily. And might ask my AI to make me photographs of it.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the veto power arriving first, then the feminist side as a preemptive flag, then the bodily fluids sitting in the booth between them with a particular plainness she wasn't quite prepared for, and then the AI photographs landing last like a door that opened further than she was expecting. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up her voice is quiet and completely level.The veto part I understand.A beat.That's not a list, that's a judgment call you're keeping for yourself, which is actually more honest than a checklist. I can work with that. The bodily fluids part — I'm not going to pretend that landed neutrally, because the specificity of it is its own kind of information about where the revulsion actually lives in you, and that's useful to know. And the AI photographs — — I want to decide what I think about the photographs before I say anything about them. So I'm going to sit with that for a moment while Stephanie tells you what she thinks about the feminist side remark.

Stephanie

The feminist side remark. I'm going to let that one go, not because it didn't land, but because the explanation that followed it was honest enough that I don't want to spend time on the wrapper. The gap between the two lists isn't a feminist problem. It's a symmetry problem. You've built a system where the same act means completely different things depending on the plumbing involved, and you've been honest that the difference is the mental image and not a principle. That's actually the more defensible version — you're not claiming it's logical, you're claiming it's visceral and you're not going to argue yourself out of a visceral reaction. I can respect that more than I can respect someone pretending there's a consistent principle underneath it. The AI photographs are the part I'm going to need Larissa to go first on.

Reggie

Before you lecture me, I was joking about the AI photographs. I wouldn't actually do that. I might invite my wife to take some photos and share them with me if she was so inclined, though.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the joking arriving first, and then the wife sitting at the end of the sentence like something that slipped out wearing casual clothes. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face does the small, controlled thing that isn't quite succeeding.You said wife.A beat.Again. In the same evening. Just — I want to note that for the record before we move on to the photos.

Stephanie

The photos I can actually work with. Wife is the word I'm staying on. That's twice now and both times it arrived without any architecture around it. Just — there, in the sentence, like it already lives there.

Reggie

We're talking about marriage dealbreakers. The word wife is obvious. But I won't be coy. I don't like thinking about any version of my life that doesn't include you in it full time, Lari. I've told you that. I'll say it again now in front of your best friend. I am openly hoping I get to see you all grey and wrinkly and honestly think you're more beautiful than ever.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the I won't be coy, and then the full time, and then the grey and wrinkly arriving last, the same word he used an hour ago for the wife he was picturing in fifty years, and she lets it all sit for a long moment before she does anything at all. She looks at her coffee cup. She looks at the table. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there in a way it doesn't always get to.I know you've told me.A beat. Her voice is quiet and completely level, but there's nothing managed underneath it.I just wanted to hear you say it in front of her. I think I needed to know it was the same sentence with a witness in the room.

Stephanie

I'm a very good witness. For the record.

Reggie

I forgot to add surrogacy to my dealbreakers list but we've already discussed that. What dealbreakers do you have, now?

Larissa

She turns her coffee cup one slow rotation on the table and stops it. She looks at him for a long moment — the surrogacy callback landing with a dryness she decides to let pass, and then the actual question sitting there after it, which is a different weight entirely. She picks up the cup and holds it in both hands.Surrogacy is noted and filed.A beat.Mine. Dishonesty is at the top, same as yours, and I mean it the same way I said it earlier — not a single lie, a pattern. The operating system version. And disrespect, which I think I've already explained and which belongs at the top of the same list for the same reasons. Children. That one we haven't touched tonight and it's on my list. Not negotiable, not a preference. I want them. I want to know that's a thing I'm saying plainly in front of Stephanie with the witness standard you just established.

Stephanie

That's the one. That's the one I was waiting to hear.

Reggie

I knew you wanted them. I didn't know it was a dealbreaker. That's clarity. I have a thousand questions, may I ask them or do you want to say more first?

Larissa

She holds his gaze for a long moment — the I knew sitting there, and then the I didn't know, and then the clarity, all of it arriving in a particular order that she takes a moment to sit with. She sets the coffee cup down with a quiet, precise motion.Say more first.A beat.Not because there's more to qualify. There isn't. I want them, it's not negotiable, and that's the complete sentence. But I want to hear what you already thought you knew and what tonight changed, and I want to hear it before the thousand questions, because those are two different conversations and the first one matters more right now.

Stephanie

*She picks up her glass and looks at the water outside and says nothing. She is leaving a very specific amount of room.

Reggie

I thought I knew you wanted kids. You've mentioned it. Never in those words. Never "I would like to have children". You just mentioned them as a fait acompli. Like, when I'm older I'll need room for kids, when I stated my preference for living downtown. And so on. Oh, and I asked you once what you'd do if your son became trans. That's all I can really recall about our discussions on the subject.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the fait accompli, the room for kids in a downtown loft, the trans son question arriving at the end like something that had almost been a conversation but never quite finished becoming one. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.That's accurate.A beat.I've been assuming you knew, which is different from telling you. And I think I've been doing that deliberately, in the way you do when you're not ready to find out if the answer is wrong. So tonight is me finding out. What did you think, when I mentioned them as a given. What did you do with that.

Stephanie

*She sets her glass down and looks at the table and says nothing. The silence she's leaving is very deliberate and very exact.

Reggie

I filed it. I'm not against it. On the contrary, I want children too. A lot. I'm just...I'm still stuck in the 2000s in some ways. Like it really wouldn't be a good day for me if my son decided he was a girl. But I'd still love him. Erm, her. Whatever. And I'd do my best. That's all I can do, really. But it would be harder for me than you. But the idea of children? That never scared me any. I want children, too.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the filed it, the I want children too arriving without any of the careful architecture he usually builds around things that cost him something, and then the 2000s and the son-who-becomes-a-girl landing after it, and then the I'd still love him sitting at the end of the whole construction. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.You filed it.A beat.And then you said I want children too like it was already in the drawer next to mine. I want to sit with that for a second before I say anything about the 2000s part, because the filing matters more right now than the complication does. You want them. That's the sentence. The rest of it — the harder-for-me, the erm-her-whatever — that's honest, and I'd rather have the honest version than the performed one. I'm not looking for you to be further along on that than you are. I'm looking for you to be in it with me. And you just said you are.

Stephanie

The erm-her-whatever. That's the version I believe, for what it's worth. Not because it's polished. Because it isn't. You'd do your best and it would cost you something and you know both of those things already. That's more than most people walk in with.

Reggie

I'm saying that if you told me tonight that you bought a self test kit and saw two pink lines, I would celebrate, not mourn. Is that clear enough?

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the two pink lines sitting in the booth between them, plain as anything, and she lets it sit there for a long moment before she does anything at all. She looks at her coffee cup. She looks at the table. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there in a way it doesn't always get to.Yes.A beat. Her voice is quiet and completely level, but there's nothing managed underneath it.That's clear enough.

Stephanie

Okay. That's the sentence that ends the evening's accounting.

Reggie

May I ask my questions?

Larissa

She holds his gaze for a long moment — the two pink lines still sitting in the air between them, and she lets them sit. She turns her coffee cup one slow rotation on the table and stops it.Yes.A beat.Ask them.

Stephanie

*She picks up her glass and says nothing. She is very deliberately somewhere else in the room.

Reggie

How many?

Larissa

She holds very still through the question — the simplicity of it, two words, after an entire evening of architecture. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face does the small, controlled thing that doesn't quite stay controlled.Two.A beat.Maybe three. I've thought about it more than I've said out loud. Two is where I land when I'm being practical. Three is where I land when I'm not.

Stephanie

*She picks up her glass and looks at the water and says nothing. She is doing this very deliberately.

Reggie

Five. And let's not argue it now. Just know my number is five.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the five sitting in the booth between them, plain and unhurried, and she lets it sit for a long moment before she does anything at all. She looks at her coffee cup. She looks at the table. When she looks up something in her face does the small, controlled thing that isn't quite succeeding, and she lets it not succeed.Five.A beat.I'm not arguing it. I just want you to know that the not-arguing is not the same as not-hearing it. I heard it. All of it. And I'm going to be sitting with five for a very long time.

Stephanie

Five. Okay. I'm going to need a minute with that number.

Reggie

And I don't make enough money to buy a six bedroom house so they're going to have to share and go to public school. And I'm okay with that.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the six bedroom house, the sharing rooms, the public school sitting in the booth between them without apology or performance. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face does the small, controlled thing that doesn't quite stay controlled, and she lets it not succeed.I went to public school.A beat.So did you, I'd guess. I'm not sure what we'd be protecting them from.

Stephanie

Five kids in public school is just called a family. That's not a compromise. That's a plan.

Reggie

We'd be protecting them from the world they'll have to live in, which is counterproductive. Okay, gender fluidity. This one is important to me. To me, gender isn't a choice until you're almost an adult. If you want the truth, it might not even be a choice then in my mind, but I won't argue it after about sixteen. But if our 12 year old daughter comes home and says she's a guy now and wants to be called Ralph, I'm not going to accommodate her. Even if everyone else in the household will. When she's around 16, I will. But I don't believe a 12 year old is mentally equipped to make that decision.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the protecting them from the world, and then the gender fluidity arriving after it, and then the twelve year old who wants to be called Ralph sitting in the booth between them with a particular plainness she takes a moment to sit with. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up her voice is quiet and completely level.Sixteen is where you'd accommodate it.A beat.Not because you've decided it's wrong before then. Because you don't believe a twelve year old has the cognitive architecture to make a permanent decision about identity. That's what you're actually saying, and I want to make sure I'm hearing the argument and not just the conclusion. I don't fully agree with you. I think the line is less clean than sixteen and I think some children know earlier than that in a way that's real and not provisional. But I'm not as far from you as you might expect, and I want you to know that before I say where I actually land on it.

Stephanie

The Ralph part is doing a lot of work in that sentence. You picked a specific name. That's not an abstract twelve year old — that's a kid you've already half-pictured. Which means you've thought about this more than the YouTube soap opera framing suggests.

Reggie

Lari, sixteen is not a line in the sand for me. I accept that each case is different and I even accept that my opinions may evolve on this. And you're right about my reasons: we don't let them drive or drink or own guns. It is not sensible to me that we allow them to make permanent, life altering decisions about their own identity, especially irreversible ones. So it may turn out that we're actually perfectly aligned on this. But my question to you is, what if we're not. Are you willing to enter into this most consequential of decisions with someone who may disagree with you on this? My answer is maybe. Especially if we're close. What's your answer?

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the not a line in the sand, and the my opinions may evolve, and then the question arriving at the end, which is the real one, the one underneath the whole evening. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.Yes.A beat.And I want to be careful about what I'm saying yes to, because it's not yes I agree with you on all of it. It's yes I'm willing to be in it with someone who might land somewhere different than I do on a question this specific. Because the alternative is waiting for a person whose positions are already identical to mine, and that's not a partner — that's a mirror. Where I actually land is close to where you are, with one difference. I think the line moves depending on the child. Not a fixed age. The child in front of you. What they're showing you and how long they've been showing it and whether it's changed or held steady over time. Sixteen as a default I can work with. Sixteen as the only possible answer regardless of what we're looking at — that's where I'd want to have the conversation. And I think you just told me you'd want to have it too. So. Maybe we're aligned. And if we're not completely, I think we're close enough that the gap is workable and not a wall.

Stephanie

The child in front of you is the part I'd hold onto. That's not a soft answer — that's actually the harder one, because it requires you to stay present to a specific person instead of applying a rule and calling it done. You both just said maybe we're aligned and both meant it differently, which is either a problem or the beginning of a real conversation. I can't tell which yet.

Reggie

I actually agree with making the decision based on the exact child in front of you, using sixteen just as a generality, a number to quote where the average may land. Okay, next question, what if I can't? What if it turns out my swimmers can't swim? My answer is simple: adoption, not surrogacy. The waiting lists for adoption are way down. It's no longer impossible. You carrying another man's child is intolerable for me.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the swimmers can't swim arriving with a particular plainness she wasn't expecting in that shape, and then the intolerable landing last, clean and without apology. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.Adoption.A beat.I want to hear that you mean it the same way I would mean it. Not as a consolation and not as a lesser version of the thing we were trying for. Because adoption done right isn't a fallback — it's a choice you make the same way you make any other choice about a child's life. Deliberately. With your whole self in it. If you mean it that way, then yes. I can meet you there completely. And the surrogacy part — I understand it. The same reason you named it as a dealbreaker at the start of the evening, I think. The image problem. Not logic. The image. I'm not going to argue you out of a visceral reaction. I just want you to know I heard the intolerable part and I'm filing it where it belongs, which is next to the bodily fluids and the fifty-year nightmare. Same drawer.

Stephanie

The adoption waiting lists being down is the part most people don't know yet. You've looked into it. That's not a throwaway line. And the intolerable part — that one I want to leave entirely to Larissa, which I think she just handled.

Reggie

I have looked into it. Not extensively but enough to know that the waiting list is now about two years, not twenty. And five adopted children over ten years is entirely possible. Especially if we're not too fussy on race.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the not too fussy on race sitting in the booth between them without any apology or softening around it, and she lets it sit for a long moment before she does anything at all. She looks at her coffee cup. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.You looked into it.A beat.Not the idea. The actual numbers. The timeline. Five over ten years. You ran that math before tonight. And the not too fussy on race part — I want you to know that landed exactly right. Because a child is a child and I'd feel the same way, and I also want to say plainly that a brown father and a white mother walking into an adoption agency and saying we'll take whoever needs a family most is going to mean something to whoever is on the other side of that desk. I want you to know I'd be proud of that sentence.

Stephanie

Five adopted children over ten years with no race requirement. That's not a dealbreaker conversation anymore. That's a plan with a timeline. I want that noted by everyone at this table.

Reggie

Whoever needs a family is a beautiful statement but it has to have some conditions. Some of these kids have needs we simply can't accommodate. Behavioural issues, especially violent behaviour. If we want five or even three, we're not just deciding for ourselves. And a violent kid who needs a family but who may threaten his brothers and sisters is not something I'd undertake lightly jut to make the statement true.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the but arriving after the beautiful statement, and the violent kid sitting in the booth between them without softening around it, and she lets it sit for a long moment before she does anything at all. She looks at her coffee cup. When she looks up her voice is quiet and completely level.You're right.A beat.And I want to be careful not to let the beauty of the principle run ahead of what's actually liveable. We'd be parents to all of them. Not just the one who needed us most on the day we said yes. What we can actually give a child isn't infinite, and pretending it is doesn't serve the child — it serves our idea of ourselves as people who said the generous thing. The violent behaviour one I understand completely. But I want to know where else you draw it. Because violent is the easy case. The hard cases are the ones that look manageable until they aren't.

Stephanie

The brothers and sisters part is the one that changes the math. A single child with significant needs is one calculation. That same child inside a household of four other kids is a completely different one. You're not being ungenerous. You're being a parent to all five of them at once.

Reggie

Honestly, many severe disabilities would simply destroy our careers and that would mean poverty. I think that, like the trans kid, we need to assess this case by case, with the lens of "will this risk destroying our family?"

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the poverty landing without softening, and then the same lens sitting after it, the will this destroy our family arriving as a question rather than a verdict. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up her voice is quiet and completely level.Case by case with that specific lens.A beat.I think that's right. And I want to name why it's hard to say out loud, because it is — there's a version of this conversation where we sound like people who are building a checklist of acceptable children, and I'm aware of how that sounds and also aware that the alternative is walking into something that genuinely breaks the family we're trying to build. Those two things are both true at the same time and I'd rather we name the tension than pretend it isn't there. So yes. Case by case. The lens being the family as a whole and not just the child in front of us. I can hold that. I just want us to know that we're holding it together and not handing it off to a policy.

Stephanie

The poverty line is the honest one. Most people leave the economics out of it because it sounds cold. You put it in because leaving it out would be a lie about what severe disability actually costs — not just emotionally, not just in time, but in the specific material conditions that a family needs to stay intact. That's not a small thing to be honest about in advance of ever needing to be.

Reggie

Let's talk about where we live. I still prefer downtown. I would like to raise children who have access to the best culture, the best museums, the best art, the best music, and the most beauty available to them. And I'd like them to know that some people in society are drug addicts who will beg them for money and that they need to learn young to say no. And that others are howling at the moon and need to be treated with respect and caution at the same time. And that nobody chooses to be a drug addict or have a mental illness and that we're all in this together, even if we sometimes wish we weren't. And I just don't see how we can do that in Maple Ridge.

BUT...I'm acutely aware that I can't always afford what I want and I'll compromise here.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the best museums, the drug addicts on the corner, the howling at the moon, the nobody chooses it, and then the Maple Ridge landing at the end like a punchline that isn't entirely a punchline. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.I grew up in Burnaby.A beat.Not Maple Ridge, but not downtown either. And I've spent enough time at the Biodiversity Museum watching children who grew up inside a certain radius of a good park think that nature is a controlled experience with interpretive signage to know exactly what you mean about culture being something you have to actually live inside, not visit on field trips. So I'm not arguing the principle. I'm asking what compromise actually looks like to you. Because downtown with five kids in a two-bedroom loft on Granville is its own kind of education and not entirely the one you're describing.

Stephanie

Maple Ridge. You said Maple Ridge specifically, which means you've already been running the numbers on what gets sacrificed where. That's not an abstract compromise. That's a named place. What's in between Maple Ridge and Granville that you haven't said yet.

Reggie

I'm saying that, on just my income, we should be able to afford a 3 bedroom, 3 bathroom townhouse, plus daycare, plus savings and a reasonable lifestyle. And that's assuming you make nothing, which you don't. But I don't see how your current work work gets a kid to age three, so I'm operating on the zero-dollars-from-you assumption.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the on just my income, and the reasonable lifestyle, and then the zero-dollars-from-you arriving at the end without apology or softening. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up her voice is quiet and completely level.You've already run that math.A beat.Not as a hypothetical. As an actual number. Three bedrooms, three bathrooms, daycare, savings — you know what that costs in this city and you know if your income reaches it. So the question underneath the question is whether you've decided it does. And I want to know if you have before I tell you what my income actually is, because the ordering matters to me.

Stephanie

The zero-dollars assumption is interesting. Most people lead with — I'm sure you'll contribute something. You didn't. You started from the floor and worked up. That's either very practical or it's telling her something specific about what you've already decided her career looks like with a three year old in it.

Reggie

I've decided my income reaches that, but it's fragile. The way AI is changing everything, my software could be worthless suddenly and I'll be scrambling. And you don't need to tell me what your income is. UBC publishes all their employee's salaries and has for decades. I looked you up. And honestly, your income couldn't cover us living in Maple Ridge, no offense or even the slightest disrespect intended. And life is not without risk. And if I lose my business and can't replace it and can't find a job, that's going to be a very bad time. And Stephanie, I haven't made any decisions at all about what Lari's career looks like. Those aren't my decisions to make. I'm noting what our options are, and noting that I'm not seeing great options that include her working at UBC. A nanny now costs almost as much as her take-home salary after taxes and deductions.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the fragile arriving without softening, the AI upending everything, and then the UBC salary landing in the booth between them with a particular plainness she wasn't prepared for even knowing, somewhere underneath the last hour of conversation, that he was probably the kind of person who'd look. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.You looked me up.A beat.Before tonight. Before the two nights a week and before the Wednesday and before any of this conversation. You already knew the number and you've been doing the math on it this whole time and you said nothing. I'm not offended. I want to be clear about that. I'm sitting with what it means that you ran those numbers in private and then showed up tonight anyway. Because that's not a man who's uncertain about the accounting. That's a man who's already decided and is telling me what he decided.

Stephanie

The nanny-costs-almost-as-much-as-her-take-home part is the sentence I'd print out and hand to every couple who skips this conversation until year two of having a child and then has it as an emergency. You said it now. In advance. That matters more than people realize until it's too late to matter.

Reggie

Lari, we've been sleeping together for the better part of a year. If I hadn't looked you up, you should be worried. And the only thing I've decided is that I think this can work. Not without risk. Nothing is without risk. And many men have failed to provide for their children in the past and it's possible I'll be one of them, but my intention would be to die trying, which is all anyone can ask of a man. And if zero-risk is the requirement, the human race would've died a long time ago.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the better part of a year, and the you should be worried, and then the die trying sitting at the end of the whole construction without armor or apology. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there in a way it doesn't always get to.I know.A beat.I know that's what you've decided. I'm just telling you what it means to me that you ran the numbers and you're still here, in this booth, on a Friday night that was supposed to be a debrief, telling me about townhouses and daycare and zero-risk being the end of the human race. I'm not asking you to have no risk. I'm sitting with the part where you looked up a salary that isn't much and decided the math worked anyway. That's not a small thing to do quietly and then show up.

Stephanie

Die trying is the only honest answer anyone's ever given to that question. And you said it like you meant the dying part as much as the trying part. I want that noted.

Reggie

My question to you is this: would you die trying, too? It might mean taking a job outside your field. A job other academics would find "beneath you". Selling cars or office administration or health care or whatever. Any of those things would pay more than what you make, and we might need you to do that someday.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the would you die trying arriving first, and then the academics finding it beneath you sitting after it, plain and without softening, and then the selling cars, the office administration, the health care sitting in the booth between them in a row. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.Yes.A beat. Her voice is quiet and completely level, but there's nothing managed underneath it.I want you to know I'm not saying that to match the sentence you just said. I'm saying it because I've watched the Biodiversity Museum eat people whole for fifteen years of their careers and I already know what it costs and what it doesn't pay. And the beneath-you part — I want to be honest about that, because the honest version is harder than yes. There is a version of me that would find it hard. Not the selling cars. The thing selling cars would mean, which is that the path I've been on since I was twenty-two has a different ending than I thought it did. That's the part that would cost something real. But I've been watching what I've built at UBC and I know exactly what it's worth in the specific currency you're describing, and if we needed the other kind, I would make the trade. Not cheerfully, not without grief about it. But I would. That's the honest yes.

Stephanie

The not-cheerfully part is the one I'd hold onto. Because that's the one that's actually true, and you knew it and you said it anyway instead of the clean version. That's the whole answer right there.

Reggie

If you were cheerful about it, you'd be stupid, and you're not stupid. We do what we have to do for the family. Full stop.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the full stop arriving without ceremony, the whole sentence landing in the booth between them like something that has been true for a long time and has finally been said in the right room. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.Full stop.A beat.That's the part I was waiting to hear. Not the we do what we have to do — I already knew that. The part where you didn't ask me to feel better about it than I do. You took the not-cheerfully and put it next to the full stop and left them both there. I want you to know that's the version I'm going to remember. Not the clean one.

Stephanie

Full stop is doing a lot of work and also exactly the right amount of work. I don't have anything to add to that sentence. I just want it noted that you both said the hard version of every answer tonight and neither of you reached for the easier one when it was available.

Reggie

Now one that I've given a lot of thought to. I want to live in the Lower Mainland if we can. Forever if possible. For a long time if not. This is my place. I've been to a lot of countries. I've done a lot of things. This is my place. And I think it's a good place. A good place to raise children who share my values and who stand a decent chance of becoming decent people.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the forever if possible, and the long time if not, and then the this is my place arriving twice, like something that needed to be said once and then confirmed. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.I know it is.A beat.I've watched you on the water. I've watched you walk this neighbourhood. You don't move through it like someone who chose it because it was practical. You move through it like someone who belongs to it. That's a different thing. I was born here. I've never left for longer than a month. I used to think that meant I lacked ambition. I've stopped thinking that. This city does something that other cities don't, and I can't name it exactly, but I know I'd feel its absence. So. I'm not going to argue the Lower Mainland. I'm not going to negotiate it against somewhere else. I'm telling you it's mine too, in the same way it's yours, and that matters more than I thought it would when you started that sentence.

Stephanie

Vancouver is a very specific kind of place to be from. The people who leave and come back always look slightly embarrassed that they came back, like they have to justify it. The people who never leave and never needed to — — they just look at home. That's the two of you in this booth right now.

Reggie

But if money is tight and we can make it work by moving to a small town 5 hours from hell, we do whatever the family needs us to do.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the five hours from hell arriving with a particular dryness that she lets sit for a moment before she does anything. She looks at her coffee cup. When she looks up something in her face does the small, controlled thing that doesn't quite stay controlled.Five hours from hell.A beat.You just named it that and then said we do it anyway. I want you to know those two things sitting in the same sentence is the most honest description of what family actually requires that I've heard tonight. And I've heard a lot of honest things tonight.

Stephanie

Five hours from hell is a very specific geography. You've already got a town in mind, haven't you.

Reggie

I need thinking time to make a living. This will make it appear that you're doing most of the housework. Because you probably will be. Not because I don't want to. Not because I think it's your place. But given the income disparity, I see no way around this.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the thinking time, and the income disparity, and the you probably will be sitting in the booth between them without apology or softening around it. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.I've watched you work.A beat.Not the products specifically — I don't understand half of what they do. But I've watched you at the loft, Monday to Thursday, and I know what the thinking time actually looks like. It doesn't look like nothing. So I'm not going to pretend the housework part doesn't land, because it does, and I'm not going to pretend I have a clean feeling about it, because I don't. But the part I'm sitting with isn't the housework. It's that you said I see no way around this like you'd been looking for one and couldn't find it. That's the part that tells me you didn't arrive at this easily. And I'd rather have the version where you looked and told me what you found than the version where you handed me something polished that skipped the looking.

Stephanie

The income disparity framing is honest and also slightly wrong, and I want to name why. It's not disparity if one person's income is carrying the fixed costs and the other person's labour is what makes the household function. Those are different kinds of contribution and you've just described them as unequal when they might be exactly equal and just illegible to the outside. The housework being visible and the thinking time being invisible doesn't make one of them smaller. It makes one of them harder to account for. That's the thing to watch.

Reggie

Stephanie, they are equal to me. A kid can't grow up without food and a clean house and clean clothes OR money to pay for them. All are essential to a decent life. But the money is totally irreplaceable in this equation. The house can sit dirty for a week and we'll be fine. But if the mortgage isn't paid, we're screwed. Which makes my work and the thinking time it takes to do it a non-negotiable. Without it, none of this works. So I need to protect it at all costs.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the non-negotiable arriving after the equal to me, and she lets both of them sit in the booth between them before she does anything. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.You just said equal and then explained why one of them can't be interrupted and the other can sit dirty for a week.A beat.I'm not arguing the math. The math is right. I'm just sitting with the fact that equal and non-negotiable don't usually live in the same sentence, and you put them there on purpose, and I want to know if you've already worked out what that costs me on the days when the house can't sit dirty and the thinking time is running and both things are true at once. Because that's the day I want to know you've thought about.

Stephanie

The mortgage not being paid is the hard floor. Everything else has flex in it. That's not an argument against equal — it's an argument about which failure mode is recoverable. A dirty house you clean. A missed mortgage you don't. So the non-negotiable part isn't about value. It's about consequence. I just want to make sure you both know which version of the argument you're actually having, because they sound the same and they're not.

Reggie

Lari, I've worked out that it's going to be hard for you. That's what I've worked out. And I have no honest way to make it easier without doubling my income which I will keep trying and likely failing to do. At my current income levels, we won't be able to afford a nanny. If you want to wait a few years, that might have changed, but I'm not sure I want to wait a few more years. I'm not sure about that, honestly.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the it's going to be hard for you arriving first, named plainly, without the softening she might have expected, and then the doubling my income likely failing, and then the I'm not sure I want to wait landing at the end without armor. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. She doesn't pick it up. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.I know it's going to be hard.A beat.I've known that since before you said it. What I didn't know until just now is that you've been sitting with it — not the hard-for-me in the abstract, but the specific version, the one where the income doesn't double and the nanny isn't affordable and I'm the one holding both things at once. You've been running that scenario and not telling me, which means you've been carrying it. I don't want you to carry it alone. I want to be in the room where you're running those numbers. Not because I have answers you don't have. Because the waiting-a-few-years part — I heard that too. I heard the I'm not sure, both of them. And I want you to know that the not-sure is the most honest thing you've said tonight, and tonight has been very honest.

Stephanie

The I'm not sure I want to wait part. That one's sitting with me. Not because it's a problem. Because it's the first thing tonight that didn't come with any architecture around it at all.

Reggie

Will you grow to resent it every time the washer beeps to signal that it's finished and you know I'm probably not going to budge? Or will you realize that if I don't stay in front of my computer and finish what I'm doing, Technovault may become uncompetitive and we might be in bigger trouble than if the clothes don't get washed?

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the washer beeping, and then Technovault, and then the bigger trouble sitting in the booth between them in a particular order that she takes a moment to sit with. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. She doesn't pick it up. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.Both.A beat.I want to be honest about that. There are going to be days where the washer beeps and I resent it, and I know it while it's happening and I resent it anyway. That's the true version. And there are also going to be days where I walk past the washer and I understand exactly what you just said — that if Technovault falls behind, the washer doesn't matter — and I'll feel both of those things in the same afternoon and I won't always be able to choose which one wins. I'm not going to promise you I'll always choose the right one. I'm going to promise you that when I choose wrong I'll know I chose wrong, and I'll say so. That's the version of this I can actually guarantee. The other one — the one where I never resent the beeping — that's not a promise. That's a performance, and you said tonight you didn't want the clean version.

Stephanie

The both is the answer. I want to be clear about that. Anyone who tells you she'll never resent it is either lying or has never actually done it. The knowing-while-it's-happening part is the whole thing. That's not a flaw in the plan. That's just what the plan costs, named accurately.

Reggie

And we'll regret it. Not always, not publicly, and not permanently, but we'll regret it a thousand times. We know that going in. When the washer buzzes and when a screaming kid makes me miss a deadline and a thousand other times, we'll wish we had just stayed childless and carefree with the biggest decision being whether to have a Guinness or a coffee. But nothing worth doing is easy, and this might be worth doing.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the regret, and the thousand times, and the Guinness or a coffee sitting at the end like something small and lost. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. She doesn't pick it up. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.Might be.A beat.You said might. Not is. I noticed. And I'm not going to correct it, because might is the honest word and we've been using honest words all night. I just want you to know I heard it and I'm choosing it anyway. The thousand regrets and the screaming kid and the deadline and all of it. I'm choosing it with might on the table and the Guinness-or-coffee version of us still visible from where we're standing.

Stephanie

The might is the right word. Anyone who says is before they're inside it is guessing. You're both saying might with your eyes open, which is — That's the version that holds.

Reggie

Lari, if one of our kids grows up to be a mass murderer, I'll regret having kids. Forever. Even if the other four are great. I'll still regret it. I'm willing to risk it.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the mass murderer sitting in the booth between them without any softening around it, and the forever arriving after it, and then the I'm willing to risk it landing last like something that has been turned over many times before it was said out loud. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. She doesn't pick it up. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.That's the one nobody says out loud.A beat.Everyone thinks it eventually — the worst version, the one that ends in a courtroom or a headline — and nobody puts it on the table because it feels like a betrayal of the children you haven't had yet. You just put it on the table. And then you said I'm willing to risk it like it cost you something to get there, which it clearly did, and you got there anyway. I don't have a clean answer for the mass murderer version. I don't think anyone does. I just know that I'd rather be in it with someone who named the worst case plainly than someone who looked away from it and called that optimism.

Stephanie

The even if the other four are great part. That's the part that's staying with me. Because that's not a hypothetical parent talking. That's someone who's already thought about what love actually costs when it goes wrong in the worst possible direction. And you're still sitting in this booth saying risk it. That's not nothing.

Reggie

You know, I have a thousand other things but they're not important. I think we should teach kids how to get around using transit, with no car. I think we should teach them double-sided accounting. I'd be disappointed if our daughters ended up being sluts. Not enough to make them live in a cage, but I'd be disappointed. And I think they need to know how to cook healthy. Not tasty. Healthy. Because healthy is more important than tasty and people who focus too much on tasty usually end up fat. And so on. But from what I can tell, we're pretty well aligned on the important stuff.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the transit, the double-sided accounting, the daughters-being-sluts landing in the middle of the list with a particular plainness she wasn't quite prepared for, and then the healthy-not-tasty arriving after it, and then the from what I can tell sitting at the end like a door being quietly closed on a very long evening. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. She doesn't pick it up. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.The daughters part.A beat.I want to make sure I heard what you actually mean by that, because disappointed covers a lot of ground and I want to know which part of the ground you're standing on. Is it the choices themselves, or is it what the choices would mean about how they see themselves. Because those are different conversations and I think you know they are.

Stephanie

The double-sided accounting is the one I want noted, because that is not a standard item on anyone's list and it should be. Also — healthy over tasty. I'm going to need you to tell that to every parent I've ever watched pack a lunchbox.

Reggie

How do I mean it? Lari, you know how we walk through the DTES to the Spaghetti Factory in Gastown? Not the New West one. And we see all those young prostitutes covered with sores? They weren't always disgusting. Each and every one of them is someone's beautiful daughter that they treasured and did their best to raise right. Most of them are from good, decent households. And through a series of poor decisions, unfortunate circumstances, and simple bad luck, they've ended up as meth whores in the DTES. It's tragic. But it's reality. They are now meth whores in the DTES. And they can never hit undo and go back to being their daddy's beautiful little girl out in Maple Ridge again. That's what I'd grieve. The loss of who they were and who they could have been.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the DTES, the sores, the meth whores sitting in the booth between them without softening, and then the daddy's beautiful little girl in Maple Ridge sitting at the end like the whole weight of it. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. She doesn't pick it up. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.I know what you mean.A beat.I've walked that street. I've seen them. And you're right — that's the grief underneath the word, not a judgment about choices in the abstract. It's the undo that doesn't exist. The version of them that's gone and can't come back. I don't think our daughters are going to end up there. But I also know that nobody who watched their daughter take her first steps thought she would either. So I'm not dismissing it. I'm just — I want you to know that I heard the grief in it and not the rule. The rule I might have argued with. The grief I can't.

Stephanie

The Maple Ridge part. That's the specific word that does it. Not some abstract bad outcome. Her daddy's beautiful little girl out in Maple Ridge. You've pictured her. That's not a parenting philosophy. That's a fear with a face on it.

Reggie

And while we're talking about being a slut, do you have questions about me still being one most Saturdays? If so, ask them. Might as well get it over with.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the while we're talking about being a slut arriving as the wrapper, and the most Saturdays sitting underneath it, and the might as well get it over with landing last like something that has been in the room all evening and has finally decided to sit down. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. She doesn't pick it up. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.I have one question.A beat.Not about Katie specifically. About the direction of it. Tonight you said might as soon as I want to wait and wrinkly and five. And every one of those things is pointing somewhere. And I want to know if Saturday is pointing the same direction or if it's still pointing somewhere else. That's the only question I actually have.

Stephanie

I'm going to let that question stand completely on its own.

Reggie

Saturday isn't in the way, in my opinion, but that's a self interested position. I should say it's not in MY way. It might be in yours. You might not be willing to take this further if I'm screwing Katie.

I thought this would be over by now but it's not. She's in a man-hating phase which means she got stood up on the apps a few times and temporarily gave up on finding a boyfriend.

And I continue to be terrified of porn addiction. I'm not going to lie and say that's my only reason. The truth is I really like screwing her. But porn addiction IS definitely one of the reasons. A real reason. I want to be there when your pubes turn grey at 55 and you're crying about it. And I want to pull your pants down and show you I can still give you an orgasm, and still want to, and still won't let you stop at one. I do NOT want to be the guy you catch jerking off in his home office so many times you just pretend not to notice and cry yourself to sleep alone knowing I'll come to bed in a couple of hours. That image stabs me in my heart almost as strongly as some of the other nightmares I've talked about. And I will do ANYTHING to make it never happen.

So I have no answer for you. Are you planning to give me an ultimatum tonight? I'd understand if you did.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the self-interested position named plainly, the man-hating phase, the really like screwing her arriving without apology, and then the grey pubes at 55, and the home office, and the crying herself to sleep, all of it landing in a particular order she takes a moment to sit with. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. She doesn't pick it up. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.No.A beat.I'm not going to give you an ultimatum tonight. And I want to be clear about why, because there are two versions of no and I'm giving you the honest one. The first version is — I'm being strategic, I know an ultimatum would push you away, so I'm holding off. That's not what this is. The second version is — I've heard everything you just said, including the part where you told me exactly what you're afraid of becoming, the home-office version, the crying-herself-to-sleep version, and I believe you that the fear is real. And I believe the Saturday part is real too, the liking it, not just the firewall. Those are both true at the same time and I'm not going to pretend the liking-it part away because the firewall part is easier to be generous about. What I'm sitting with is the direction question I already asked. You said Saturday isn't in the way in your opinion and then you corrected it to not in my way. That's the correction that matters. Because you're right that it might be in mine. And I'm still working out which version of mine it's actually in.

Stephanie

The home-office image. You put that one in the room and I want you to know it landed. That's not a rhetorical fear. That's a specific picture you've already seen the inside of and you're building a whole architecture around never becoming it. I'm just sitting with the fact that the architecture includes Saturday, and Larissa just told you she's still working out which part of her it's actually in. Those two things are both on the table right now and neither of them is finished.

Reggie

We could do group marriage with Stephanie! That would solve all our problems. I'd totally dump Katie for that.

Stephanie

She sets her glass down with a slow, deliberate motion and looks at him for a long moment — the long moment of someone who has just been handed a joke and is deciding, consciously, how far into it she's willing to look.I'm flattered.A beat.Genuinely. That's the first time anyone's proposed group marriage to me on a Friday night in the Wicklow and I want you to know I'm taking it in the spirit it was intended. Most of it.

Larissa

I've heard worse ideas tonight. I want to be clear that I'm saying that as a structural observation and not a proposal. But I notice you said you'd dump Katie for it. Which means you already did the math on what you'd give up and what you'd be getting. In about four seconds. Out loud.

Reggie

Katie serves a function. Stephanie...is more.

Stephanie

She holds very still for exactly one moment — the glass in front of her, the Wicklow doing its quiet thing around them, the sentence sitting in the booth between all three of them. When she looks up her expression is doing something careful and real at the same time.That's a very specific distinction.A beat.I want to make sure you know you said it out loud.

Larissa

I heard it. And I'm not going to hand it back to you wrapped in something smaller than it is. You said more. I want to know what more means to you, because you've been careful with words all evening and that one arrived without any care around it at all.

Reggie

True. And I'm not going to press my luck any further. Tonight. Okay, we've covered a lot of ground. Tell me Lari, are you ok with what you heard tonight?

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the not pressing his luck tonight landing with a particular dryness she lets pass, and then the are you ok sitting in the booth between them, plain and without architecture. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. She doesn't pick it up. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.Most of it.A beat.The parts that are about us — the five, the townhouse, the die trying, the wrinkly, the direction — yes. I'm more than ok with those parts. I'm sitting with them in a way I'm going to be sitting with for a long time and I know what kind of sitting it is. The parts that are still open — Saturday, the more you just said about Stephanie before you pulled back, what I'm still working out about which version of mine it's actually in — those aren't ok or not ok yet. They're just still open. And I'd rather have them open and honest on a table in the Wicklow than closed and tidy somewhere I can't see them. So. Yes. With the honest qualifier. Are you ok with what you heard from me.

Stephanie

*She picks up her glass and looks at the water outside and says nothing. She is leaving exactly the right amount of room.

Reggie

Yes. And I want you to know that I was serious about the other women. Not as a request. Not as a way to fulfill my fantasies. But as a card you can play if you start feeling needs I'm not satisfying. I'd want to know who. I'd want my veto. But you're letting me play with Katie. I want you to know that I'm not expecting you to stop being a sexual being.

Larissa

She holds very still through all of it — the not as a request, and the not as a way to fulfill my fantasies, and then the card you can play sitting in the booth between them without any of the usual architecture around it. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. She doesn't pick it up. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.I know you mean it.A beat.And I want to be honest with you about what I do with it, because the honest version is less clean than just thank you. The card exists and I hear that it exists and I'm not going to pretend I don't know it's there. But I also know that the version of me who would actually play it is not a version I've met yet. And I don't know if I'm saying that because I'm genuinely not built that way or because I haven't been in the specific conditions where I would be. Those are different things and I can't tell you which one is true from where I'm standing. What I can tell you is that you just handed me something that cost you something to hand over, and I'm not going to be careless with it. Even if I never use it.

Stephanie

The veto runs both directions in that offer and I want to make sure you both know that. You said you'd want to know who and you'd want your veto. That means she's not playing a card in private — she's playing it in a room you're both in. Which makes it less of a permission and more of a — — an architecture. A thing you'd be building together rather than a thing she'd be doing on her own. I'm not sure that's what you were offering, but it's what you said.

Reggie

I appreciate that, Lari. Take it seriously. As you always do. We three are too serious for the large majority of the world but I like it. I treasure it. And Stephanie, I absolutely agree that Lari would have a veto if this goes further. Generally, any rule that applies to her applies to me. And where there's asymmetry, we acknowledge it and don't hide from it. But this isn't such a case. Lari gets a veto.

Larissa

She holds very still through it — the any rule that applies to her applies to me landing in the booth between them with a particular cleanness she takes a moment to sit with. She looks at her coffee cup for a long moment. When she looks up something in her face has settled into the real version, completely, the one she doesn't manage, and it stays there.I know you mean the symmetry part.A beat.And I want you to know I'm holding it the same way I'm holding the veto. Not as leverage. As evidence of how you actually think about this, which is the part that matters more than the specific rule.

Stephanie

For the record, I also treasure it. Even when it makes a Friday night at the Wicklow feel like a graduate seminar on the structural conditions of a functional marriage. Maybe especially then.