A small pang of hurt passes her eyes, but she smiles anyway. “I figured. After looking in your fridge, I figure you haven’t eaten many home-cooked meals in a long time. I thought I would treat you.”
“I’m glad you did. I have honestly missed this.”
She doesn’t say anything, and neither do I. We fall into a comfortable silence as we continue to eat our meal. Once we finish, I stand and grab the plates, taking them to the sink.
“Why don’t you go relax, and I’ll do the dishes,” I say.
“Or we could do them together. Get them done quicker. Then a movie?”
I smile at her. “Sure, we can do that.”
She slides up next to me, drying as I wash. Another future possibility passes through my mind. It isn’t until we are cuddled on the couch watching a movie that I express to her what I’m feeling.
“Tonight has been perfect. I needed this.”
She looks up at me from her position on my chest. “Want to talk about it?”
“You know I can’t. I want to, but I can’t.”
I hate the hurt in her eyes, but I can’t tell her because I know it wouldn’t scare her. Hell, at this point, I would tell her every single moment of my day, no matter what the consequences were. The only thing holding me back is the fear that it would chase her away.
“I’m glad I made it better at least.”
“You make every day better, babe.” I lean in and kiss her forehead gently.
She turns back and looks to the movie. I twirl her hair in my fingers and continue to talk.
“I know this may be too soon, but I can see us doing this years from now. Eating home-cooked meals and cuddling to watch movies.”
She looks back at me with a small smile, placing her chin on my chest. “You mean me cooking dinner while you stand and watch.”
“We both know I would burn the house down if I cook. I won’t lie though, it was hot as hell watching you standing in that kitchen. Only thing that would have made it better would be if you were barefoot with a baby on your hip.”
Her eyes darken before she pulls away from me, sitting up.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I don’t think we should be doing this. I don’t think you want the same future that I do.”
I try to pull her closer, but she stands.
“I think you should know something.” She swallows hard before turning back to me with tears in her eyes. “I can’t have children. When I went to the hospital that night, they found damage on my ovary. They removed it. They said I still have one and that it is a small possibility, but I honestly don’t know if I even want to try. The pain from losing our baby was enough to kill me. I cannot imagine putting myself through that again.”
I stand and go to her, but she brushes me off.
“Honey, that doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care if we never have kids. All I need is you.”
She sobs, backing further away. “No, I can’t do this. I thought I could, but the memory of our baby will always come up. It will always open this wound that has never healed. I can’t do it. You need to move on. We both do.”
Before I can stop her, she turns and makes her way to the front door.
“Wait,” I yell after her, but she is already out the door. “Isabella.Stop.”
She does as I ask, but she doesn’t turn around.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I love you. I want you despite all of this. I know you need your space, so I’m going to give it to you, but then tomorrow we’re going to talk about this. Let me have someone take you home. Please,” I plead.
She doesn’t say a word, but she also doesn’t move. I quickly call one of the soldiers who I know lives close. He pulls up minutes later.
