Joey Grace (Afternoon of August 2, 1977)
I am blessed, without-a-doubt, beyond blessed. I just found out from Liv’s doctor that we’ll be expecting a little girl this upcoming March. As if I wasn’t already excited about having a spring baby, I now know she’ll be the beautiful princess who will complete the kingdom Liv and I built here in Jersey.
Liv does not know about the gender yet. She’s sworn me to secrecy, even to her. Boy, she will surely be glad to know that it isn’t a boy. She and my mother are so much alike, whether they care to admit it or not. Seriously, put either of them in the same room as a young man for twenty-four hours, the poor bastard would never make it out alive. However, throw them in with a young lady, they’ll start to braid each other’s hair and teach her their misandrist ways.
This character trait seems to appear in a lot of women in both my family and love life. As soon as a man breaks their heart, they end up making it their life’s mission to conquer all of mankind, so that womankind can rise. It is a sickness, truly.
Liv claims that I’m delusional and just being my paranoid self, but I know the truth. I’ve known from the very first time we’ve met that Olivia Weston didn’t want a man to love and cherish her. She just needed some semen to fertilize at least one of her eggs. Although, she has always been the religious type, which is the only reason I’m still in the picture: to please a god I don’t believe in. I do, in fact, still care for Liv, though, even if she doesn’t reciprocate. I have always deeply cared for the women who remind me so greatly of my emotionally abusive mother. I guess most boys do in the end.
Anyway, regardless of who her mother is, I may have a chance to give this new daughter of mine a good impression of men and what they are actually like. I’ll be good to and for her, better than her mother ever could be. I’ll never let anything or anyone hurt her. I may not have met her yet, but I would kill for her. I’d even die for her.