I should’ve known the moment she asked me that question.
I was standing there, in my work uniform.
Had just gotten off a long shift, still smelling like sweat and focus when I met her.
And barely having any conversation, she tilted her head, smiled real cute, and asked me,
“So… what do you do?”
Back then, I thought it was a casual question. Harmless.
Everybody wants to know what you do, right?
But now, I see it wasn’t.
It was a scan.
A calculation.
After everything that’s happened
The court dates.
The child support.
The restraining order.
And the supervised visits.
I replay that moment differently.
I see it for what it might’ve been.
Not geniune interest.
Just a money inventory.
Because honestly, some people aren’t looking for love.
They’re looking for leverage.
And I hate saying that about the mother of my child,
But when someone you barely knew is already tallying up your income.
When the first thing she wants to know is what you do before who you are.
It makes you wonder. Was it a harmless question or a trap?
You start to question if the baby was about love or a lifetime of monthly deposits.
You start to think, “Maybe she never wanted a husband. Maybe she just wanted a provider.”
Because let’s be real. Child support is easier to get than alimony.
And with child support, you don’t need a marriage, just a birth certificate.
I didn’t see it back then.
I didn’t see how quickly a conversation could turn into court papers.
How something that looked like affection could turn into an obligation.
Now I’m waking up every day trying to be a father…
While she plays puppet master with the system.
And it’s wild, because I’m not the deadbeat.
I show up, pay the bills, and fight to see my kid.
But none of that seems to matter.
Not when the game was rigged from the start.
And maybe it wasn’t always that way.
Maybe I’m bitter.
Maybe I’m wrong.
But every time I remember her asking, “So, what do you do?”
It feels like a setup.
And I can’t stop asking myself, “Was it a harmless question or a trap?”