3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .
“Do you want kids, Kari?”
The room started to spin. The conversation I had evaded for months was staring me in the face. He finally flat-out asked the one question I had managed to avoid.
This wasn’t a yes-or-no question. This was the question that would end it all. I wasn’t ready to wake up without Max’s sleepy smiles. I wasn’t ready to reach into my pocket and not find a sticky note when I got in the car to go to work. I wasn’t ready to complain that he ran faster than me and I couldn’t keep up when we took early morning jogs.
I. Wasn’t. Ready. For. It. To. End.
“After seeing Joselyn ruin your shirt and picking up Titus’s accidents, I can only imagine the joy of having a little human,” I deflected.
“So that’s a ‘no’? Or a ‘not right now’?”
I took a deep breath and decided how to answer the question. Even after months of going over the question in my head, I still hadn’t decided how to answer it. I stood and walked quickly to my closet, needing some distance.
“Kari?” he asked again, his voice soft but curious.
There was no way out of the conversation this time. I could hear it in his voice. There was nowhere to run, no jokes to make, nothing on his mind that I could bring back up to take it off of this.
“I don’t think I’ll ever have a baby, Max,” I whispered honestly. I placed my hand on the wall, bracing myself. The room seemed to shrink, the walls forcing everything closer, suffocating me. I squeezed my eyes shut, terrified of his response.
“Well . . .” Max began, apparently not sure what to say. That was fine by me because I sure as hell didn’t know how to respond, either. I gave him a vanilla answer to a chocolate fudge sundae question, but it was honest and the best one I could give him.
“Look,” I said, forcing a swallow. “I know that’s important to you. I do and I never would want to rob you of that experience and I’ve known this conversation was coming around and I’m so sorry, Max, but I don’t know what to do and I . . .”
He was across the room to me in a second flat. “Hush,” he whispered, grasping my chin in his hand. He tilted my face up until I looked him in the eye. “Breathe, sweetheart.”
My chest shook as it rose and fell. I fought back tears.
I don’t cry. I don’t cry. I don’t cry.
“I don’t know why you’re scared shitless about this topic, but I know you are. I’ve known it for a lot longer than you realize. And you know what?”
He actually waited for a response, but that was entirely beyond my ability.
“I don’t care. I love you,” he said simply, his eyes searching mine. “Whatever made you so scared, whatever else is going on in there . . . I wish you’d let go. I wish you’d tell me your secrets. You don’t have to be strong and keep shit to yourself. Let me help.”
I took in a shaky breath. He let go of my chin and chuckled, confusing me.
“You . . . you’re laughing at me?” I didn’t know how to process that. Of all the responses I thought might happen, laughing at me wasn’t one of them.
He chuckled louder and smiled. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at your reaction. It was like you thought I’d just go off half-cocked and walk out the door.”
“Well, I did,” I gulped.
“I should be offended by that.”
“I’m sorry. I just . . . I know that sooner or later that will be the cause of things ending between us. That’s a deal breaker to people and I can’t blame you for that.”
“Sweetheart, you and me—we’re permanent. You’ll see one of these days. I’m just waitin’ on you to come around.”
Without knowing what I was doing or how it happened, I ended up in his arms, my head buried in his chest. He smoothed out my hair and held me close, quelling my anxiety one stroke at a time.
I loved this man more than I’d ever loved anyone. And because of that, even with his reaction, I still knew right from wrong.
“I won’t do that to you,” I whispered into his shirt, wondering if he even heard me.
“Is this why you pull away from me all the damn time?” The words were soft coming out of his mouth, but with an irritated edge. “You think because you don’t want kids right now that I’ll leave you? Damn it, Kar . . .”
I blew out a breath.
Just let him think that.
“Something like that. You ready to go?” I pulled back and looked up at him hovering over me. He smirked.
“Marry me,” he asked, a half-grin gracing his lips.
I shook my head, partially amused and partially heartbroken. I wished on a million stars that things were different and he could ask me that, for real, and I could answer him with every fiber of my being.
But the stars weren’t in the business of granting wishes.
I rolled my eyes, playing it off, and gave him the answer I always gave him. A reply that wasn’t a ‘yes’ or a ‘no.’
“Not today.”