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So when I hear him tell my daughter that he thinks I’m the one, my heart doesn’t just break, it shatters. Lunch winds down and Merritt goes off to run some cargo to another town and Court drives me back to the house.
He pulls to a stop in front of my house, and I wonder if I’ll be able to get out of this conversation alive. Maybe I can avoid it all together?
I jump out of the car and head for the front door. Court is right behind me. I wince when I hear the locks beep on his rental because it means he’s planning on staying for a while. I guess I need to batten down the hatches. It’s hard to prepare for conflict when you’ve spent most of your life hiding in plain sight.
He shuts the door behind him and flips the lock. I turn to look at him because that’s weird. No one would break into this house, let alone find it way out here.
“This way no will barge in if Hank decides he wants a pancake or Merritt needs a glass of juice.”
“Don’t be silly,” I tell him, and he just raises a brow. “Plus, they all have keys.”
“Jesus, Zelda,” he snaps, and I flinch, which seems to make him even more angry. “You know damn bloody well I’m never going to hurt you.”
“I know,” I whisper. “You just startled me is all.”
“Honey,” he says gently. “I’m going to get mad.”
“I know.”
“Can you tell me what’s changed?” He asks so gently, I almost do.
I snap my mouth closed before opening it again to respond. “I don’t want to.”
“But why?”
“Because then it’ll be over.”
“What will?” he asks.
“Us.”
“Never,” he swears. “I’m going to come to you now.”
“Okay.”
He makes his way over to where I stand in the middle of the living room and wraps me up in his strong arms. “Tell me what happened?”
“I heard you tell Mer that you thought I was the one when I was on my way back from the ladies room.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” he asks softly, but his body stiffens against me.
“No!”
“Then what was?”
Here goes nothing. I have to just get it out. Rip it off like a Band-Aid. Get it over with. “I don’t want kids.”
“That’s confusing then, love, because you have three.”
“No, I mean I don’t want more than I already have. I raised them and they’re wonderful, but they’re also grown. That part of my life is over,” I explain. “You haven’t lived those experiences yet.”
“This is true,” he replies. “So, you’re saying that if we did get married, I wouldn’t be a stepfather to your daughters?”
“No, that’s not it at all—”
“And I wouldn’t get to be a grandpa to little Brenna or any other children that might come from them?”
“No, but—”
