“I’m so sorry, Anne. It’s great to see you again.” He waltzes in and takes a seat in my chair. “Still got the biggest office in the building, I see.” He looks around admiring my hard work.

“Would you expect anything less?” I raise an eyebrow.

“No way. Not from Sarah Morgan. But you plan to throw it all away for a knick-knack. Shame.” He shakes his head in dismay.

“A knick-knack?” Anne asks taking a couple more steps toward Matthew. She gets as far as my desk before she stops.

“You don’t want to know. Don’t even get him started,” I say with a laugh.

Matthew crosses one leg over the other and leans forward. “I just have this theory that animals and babies are the knick-knacks of our lives. Nice to look at and fun to collect, but they serve no real purpose.”

“That’s awful,” Anne says with disgust.

“But is it?” he asks. “Why add burdens that slow you down? If anything, I am an altruist, looking out for Sarah’s best interest.”

“I told you, you didn’t want to know. I love everything about Matthew except that.” I take a seat on my desk next to Matthew. I pat his knee. “It’s his only flaw.” I laugh.

“And that I’m gay,” he adds with a chuckle.

“That’s not a flaw.”

“It is for you.” He winks and proceeds to tickle my side.

“Well, I think it’s great that you and Adam are trying for a baby.” Anne smiles.

“Is it? Am I crazy?” I look at Anne and Matthew for clarity.

“Yes,” Matthew says.

“No way! Why would you say that?” Anne questions.

“I don’t know. I’ve never wanted kids before. My childhood was less than ideal.” Matthew nods along to my words. “But it just hit me when I was sitting at this café last week. I saw this woman pushing her baby in a stroller, and I had this pang of jealousy like a need for a child of my own. And now, I think it might be too late,” I confess.

“It’s never too late. There are fertility programs and adoption.” She gives an encouraging smile.

“Let’s hope it’s too late,” Matthew snarks.

I narrow my eyes at him, telling him to stop, while Anne gives him a stern look.

“I’m thirty-three years old. Like, do I even have the energy to be a mom anymore?”

“Are you kidding me? You’re like the damn Energizer bunny, Sarah. You keep going and going. You’re in here before 7am and leave after 6pm nearly every day—sometimes later. That lucky kid isn’t going to have enough energy to keep up with you.”

“That is the only thing I can agree with Anne on. You do have a crazy amount of energy,” Matthew says. I smile at them both.