Page 110 of Whispers and Wildfire
“Yeah, and we both know how that turned out.”
“We were stupid kids. We’re not anymore. Life has kicked us around, made us smarter. Maybe even wiser. I certainly know a lot more about what I want. I’m sure you do too.”
I hesitated again, afraid to say it, but knowing I had to. I had to ask the question—had to know. “Since you seem to have a talent for getting me to open up about things I don’t like to talk about, and I keep telling you all my awful secrets, I need to know something. And it’s probably best that it comes out now, instead of kicking me in the stomach later.”
“What?”
“I can’t have babies, Luke. It’s not going to happen. I have a wicked combination of messed-up hormones and messed-up anatomy.” I paused, my stomach suddenly churning with dread. “Is that a deal breaker for you? Because if it is, I need to know now.”
“No.”
My shoulders slumped, and I tilted my head. “You answered too fast.”
“Because it’s not a hard question. That’s absolutely not a deal breaker.”
“You don’t want kids?”
He hesitated, and I appreciated that he actually considered the question.
“Kids would be great. But if it’s not going to happen, that’s okay too.”
Until that moment, I hadn’t fully realized how heavy aburden I’d been carrying. Was it worse than the trauma of my abduction experience? They were such different things, it was hard to compare. But deep down, I’d assumed no man would ever love me unless I could have his babies. Or at least, no man would ever love me enough to keep me.
The one who’d made that promise certainly hadn’t.
I let out a long breath, grateful my eyes hadn’t betrayed me and started leaking. “That’s good to know.”
“Do you want kids?” he asked.
I blinked. “I just told you I can’t have any.”
“I know. But you said you looked into adoption. Was that just for your ex, or was it for you?”
“That’s actually a good question. I love the idea of having kids, but going through years of infertility was rough. And when my ex left, I sort of figured that was it. I wasn’t meant to be a mom. But I guess, when I think about it, I’d be open to it, at least as a possibility. You know, if I ever got married again, which I probably won’t.”
He chuckled. “You don’t think so?”
“It would take quite the man to convince me it was worth taking that risk again.” I smiled. “I don’t think he exists.”
“I bet he does. In fact, I’ll bet you a hundred dollars you get married again.”
“To someone specific, or just anyone?”
He didn’t answer. Just grinned at me.
“That’s not a fair wager. How do I win? Die single? Then I can’t even collect.”
“All right, how about this? I bet you a hundred dollars you get married again in less than a year.”
“Less than a year?” I reached across the table to shake his hand. “I’ll take that bet.”
He took my hand, and we shook on it.
“You might as well give me the money now. There’s no way I’m getting married in less than a year.”
“We’ll see.”
Brynn came back with another wine—a delicious Cabernet. We chatted, ate, and sipped, finishing our flight with a sweet Moscato alongside a rich chocolate torte.
