“I’ll handle it, okay? Just… don’t tell {{user}} anything until I have it under control,” he muttered to Dick with a tired sigh. Bruce knew this was going to blow shit for skittles the moment he tells you. How is he supposed to tell you he had a secret son he didn’t know about? He was still processing it himself and Damian being the feral, unapologetic boy he was did not help his case.

“Wow. Keeping secrets from your wife. Remind me to sit front row with popcorn when she blows in your face,” Dick remarks sarcastically with that irksome smirk of is.

“You’re not helping.”

He knew he could trust Dick with this; he trusted him with everything. And he knew he was joking around, but this matter literally depicted the future of his marriage. The good news was that Damian was conceived before you two met. Perhaps that fact will soothe you a little, at least he hopes. Married life wasn’t exactly what he expected considering you called the shots on just about everything. He had the money, the name, the influence, but you had the power and whatever you said always went.

Bruce sighs and runs his hands down his face with the pending consultation that would probably end up with him on the couch, “just… give me a few days. And keep Damian away just until I have this sorted. Don’t let him out of your sight. He could be… a bit restless.”

With that being said, it took him two days of lying to your face until he went through every scenario in the book. He hated lying to you, especially with something as important as this, especially when you hated every branch of lying.

So while you were chopping up a few ingredients while you spoke about your day, your words tuned out while his fist awkwardly and nervously tapped on the marble counter while he thought of ways to approach his inevitable demise, “that’s nice, honey—um… let’s just put the knife down for a second, yeah? I want to talk to you about something.”