Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
She shakes her head a little.
“But I want to see if what we have can work.”
She takes a forkful of the Greek salad my assistant prepared and chews. She’s buying herself time to think. I get it. Thinking is all I’ve done since Saturday.
She holds my gaze and swallows. “So what are you suggesting?”
“I want to continue to see you and only you, with a view to being more to each other at some point.”
She frowns slightly. “That sounds…”
I replay the words in my head. They were carefully chosen…but maybe too carefully chosen. “I know that doesn’t sound romantic, but I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep. I don’t ever want to hurt you.”
She sighs and something deep in my gut twists. I need to be touching her, but it’s awkward out here in the open, sitting on the grass.
“Come, sit with me,” I say, patting the grass beside me.
“Come sit with me,” she says, patting the grass beside her.
Fair enough.
I stand up, move closer to her, and sit. Then I pull her onto my lap. We’re face to face and it feels better instantly.
“I really care about you,” I say. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Ever. I don’t want to lose you. But I can’t rush this. Willow is my priority. But I want to be clear that for the first time ever, I see more than me and Willow. I can picture you and me and Willow, and maybe some other kids. For the first time, I want something more than to furiously defend the status quo.” Instead of only wanting the same to repeat itself over and over, I finally see that change might be a good thing. A good thing if it involves expanding my life to include Aurora.
She leans closer, and I wrap my arms around her.
“You’ve shifted everything for me. I’m just asking for some time. Some patience. That’s all.”
“I get it,” she says. “I know this is a big change for you.” She pauses, and I wait for her to follow it up with some kind of sign that she’s willing to try. Willing to give us all time. “I need to tell you something,” she says, her tone serious. She pulls away a little so we’re looking at each other. Her eyes dip to my chest and then back up. “I’ve been having some tests recently. I’m thirty-six now, and I’ve been thinking about freezing my eggs.”
My heart is thundering. What is she going to say?
“You don’t need to know the ins and outs,” she continues, “but it looks like it would be unlikely that I’ll ever be able to have children.”
This was the last thing I was expecting her to say.
“Okay,” I say, unsure of how I’m supposed to react.
“So that might change things for you. If you’ve changed your mind and have decided that you’d like to extend your family, then I’m not sure I’m the right woman for you.”
I frown, unclear about what she’s saying.
“What do you mean, you’re not the right woman for me? I’m sitting here telling you that you’re the only woman I’ve ever felt this way about. You’re the only woman who I’ve introduced to my daughter, the only woman I’ve considered a future with.”
“But I can’t have children. If that’s what you want, then…” She blinks once, twice, then looks away.
She’s upset.
My insides twist and the pain is like an old bruise I thought had long-since healed, come to the surface again. I want to fix it. I want to take it all away and make it better.
“Hey,” I say, pulling her closer. “I can’t imagine how finding out something like that must feel. I’m sorry.” She tries to pull away, but I hold her close. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
She presses the heels of her hands against her eyes. “I’m fine. It’s just…I’ve always imagined being a mum one day, and now…” Her voice cracks and she doesn’t finish the sentence.
We sit, my arms wrapped around her until she’s ready to speak.
“You should know that, if you’re trying to imagine a future with me. Because it’s likely that future wouldn’t…” She swallows. “Wouldn’t involve more children.”
Witnessing her pain turns my stomach inside out. I want her to know how much I want to take that pain away for her.
“Aurora,” I say. What can I possibly say that will fix this? I can tell her we could find the best doctors or look into adoption. But is that what she wants to hear?
I’m in uncharted territory. I don’t know what I’m expected to say. But I know what I feel. “That doesn’t change what I’ve said or how I feel about you.”
She avoids my gaze. “You can’t know that. You’ve only just found out. If you see yourself with more children, then—”