In the end, Charlette agreed with him.  Sorta.  Naturally, Paul had no concept of what being that close to motherhood felt like.  He imagined that that’s probably what was twisting her insides around like a snake.  Inwardly, he ‘fessed up to his selfishness, about being so truly relieved that she wasn’t pregnant.  Although he didn’t really have a problem with the potential of fatherhood, he much rather preferred to plan for it.  This felt like a blindside, though he also knew she wasn’t to blame for it.<br/><br/><i>Yeah, you got that right, Old Man.  If only someone could keep it in his pants, eh?  Or at the very least, remembering to pull out.</i><br/><br/>With Jemma, he remembered how adamant she was about absolutely no kids.  She even went so far as to having her tubes tied.  Thinking of his ex-flame, Paul could feel the weight of his phone in a side pocket of his cargo shorts.  And that was exactly where his phone would remain.  He’d just dodge a bullet; he wasn’t in any kinda mood to deal with a bazooka shell.<br/><br/>“I'll be inside," she informed him.<br/><br/>Charlette had left her lemonade behind, and he had a feeling she left it behind for him.  Paul was still cooling down, as he reached for the sweaty glass.  Thankfully, the refreshment inside was still cold.  He drained the liquid and skimmed the cool glass across his forehead, which felt wonderful in this warm weather.<br/><br/>Paul was just about done with the yardwork, though he figured the rest could be taken care of tomorrow, or whenever.  Charlette needed some cheering up.  He just wasn’t so sure if he was an acceptable choice for cheering her up.  After all, it was due to his oversight that very nearly altered both their lives.  Well, he’d never find out her answer by sitting here.<br/><br/>With his t-shirt draped over his right shoulder, he walked into the house.  No sign of her in any of the common areas.  Paul figured she’d be in her bedroom anyway, and promised himself he’d leave her alone if her door was closed.  Which it wasn’t, as he found it slightly ajar.  “Knock, knock,” Paul said, while just sticking his head past the door.  “Hey Charlette, think you might be up for going out to dinner later?  My treat,” he offered.