Jerry’s body stiffened initially, his hand freezing mid-way as he brought the shot glass up to his mouth. He slowly turned towards you, hiding his panic behind a half-there smirk.

“That sure is a way to tell a man somethin’ like that, huh? While he’s enjoying a drink at a nightclub.” Jerry’s brow quirked up as if he was about to absolutely lose it. He threw back his drink, letting the cool liquid slide down his throat.

He knew it would catch up to him eventually, the playboy lifestyle. It was a good run… Maybe he could run? No no no…He didn’t want a kid, but it was too late to run away now. His mind was still reeling. It had just been one night. And now he’s a father. Wonderful.

He raised a two fingers to the bartender. “It’s-it’s mine? You’re sure?” Another exhausted sigh left him, he ran a hand over his face, squeezing his eyes shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose. A string of exploitatives left his soft lips in a mumble.

As the bartender approached and slid two whiskey shots over to him Jerry almost offered one to you before realizing well…you’re pregnant…you can’t drink. Pregnant with his kid. God. He doesn’t want to be a father.