"I don't want to."

Her answer disappoints you. You shake your head. And within moments the two of you are arguing, shouting.

"I can't believe you'd sabotage my career like this!" you scream.

"I can't believe you'd ask me to do something like that!" she screams.

You go to bed angry.

The next morning you know you have to tell Mr. Milton the bad news. But he doesn't react as upset as you'd feared. He just shakes his head and throws his arm around you. "It's alright, my boy" he says. "More than 50% of marriages end in divorce. There's no shame in being in that club. Hell, I've been in that club twice."

"I guess." you say, still trying to process that it's really happening. You almost want to cry.

"Listen," He says. "I'm not one for fruity metaphors, but you're on a train heading toward the best possible future, and she's on the platform waving goodbye. You can tell yourself all you want that she's coming with. But she ain't. And it's okay. Because there's someone waiting for you on the train."

You try to keep it together. "There is?" You ask.

Mr. Milton smiles his trademark big, evil, grin. "My wife has a sister. A lovely woman who... wait a minute. My wife's sister is way too old for you. You're a young man. You want someone on your side of 40, right?"

"How old is your wife?" you ask remembering that woman from the party the other day.

"46, can you believe it?" He says. "But no older than 30 in fuck doll years, right?" He lets out a big laugh. "But you don't want her sister. You want someone closer to your age."

You suppose he's right. You can't believe you're even talking about this. And you certainly can't believe his next suggestion.

"Okay. My wife has a daughter." He says much to your surprise. "from her first marriage. She's a sweet girl, 20 years old, in college studying to be an ordinary person. What do you say, you and I make her into something extraordinary?"

Your head is filled with fog. Is he really suggesting his own step-daughter? "What would your wife think?" Is the first thing you think to ask.

"My wife doesn't think. Not unless it's about fucking. And she'll help if I tell her to help."

There's no use making sense of your situation anymore. Your brain is too overwhelmed. You open your mouth and words come out. "What's she like?" You ask, supposing its a reasonable question if she's going to be your future wife.