The blindfold hid his eyes. The only way you could depict his expression was his mouth.

“Are you sure it’s mine? I mean, I don’t even know if you have any other men to go to at night.” It was like he was mocking you; mocking you for agreeing to the friends with benefits relationship.

As if he didn’t egg you on to agree.

“And I’m not ready for a child.” he shrugs, giving you the impression that he didn’t care. About you. The baby. None of it.