I never loved my wife.

Not when we were dating.

Not when she got pregnant.

Not when I stood there and married her.

And not during all the years we spent together pretending we had something resembling a normal marriage.

There. That ought to piss a few people off.

Now, before somebody starts calling me a heartless son of a bitch, there's something else you ought to know.

Amanda knew I didn't love her.

She knew it before we got married.

She knew I wasn't interested in settling down, buying matching bath towels, or spending the rest of my life playing house.

I never promised that woman a rose garden.

Hell, I never even promised her a goddamn flower pot.

But she married me anyway.

And I married her.

Not because I changed my mind about loving her.

Not because I suddenly decided she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

I married Amanda because she got pregnant.

And there's something about that pregnancy I've admitted before that usually makes people look at me a little differently.

I wanted her to have an abortion.