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“I love knowing you’re all mine. What more can I want?”
“You tell me,” I murmur, and a pause follows.
“There’s nothing, trust me.” His voice drops to serious at what I hint.
“Not even . . .” How do I explain to him, I won’t forget the night of my twenty-fourth birthday and all the talks about babies. He can never undo the desire I glimpsed in his eyes. I will never stop trying. We deserve to be parents.
“Don’t, please, just don’t. It’s you, you’re enough. I don’t want or need more.”
“We’ll have to talk about it, eventually. Why are you being difficult? It’s normal to talk about this.” He huffs, and only our heavy breaths pinch the silence for a few moments.
“I’ll give you the world and all the love a human being can give to another. It has to be enough. I will never put you through something that might harm you, not again, and never on my account.”
I inhale a lungful of air. “It’s a baby, Damien, not a damn bomb.”
“In your case, it could be.” He silences me. My eyes well up at this frustration churning my insides.
“What if I want one, what then?” I ask and grip the phone so hard it might crack.
“If you want a baby, we’ll adopt.”
“Damien!”
My tone lowers because this is hard for me. He’d never understand why I am so adamant about it. How to explain to him I’m missing something I have no idea how it feels to have for starters. The thought crushes me. He will never support my wish if he believes it will harm me.
“You don’t even know it.” At my insistence, frustration rings in his voice.
“That’s where you’re wrong, and why I’m damn serious about it. I knew you would eventually start with this, so I met with a specialist. The advice she gave me . . . not a good idea, highly risky, seek other options.”
I choke on my words when I question him. “You did what? Have you any idea how this makes me feel? I’m so angry at you right now.”
“You can be as angry as you want, it’s your right, but it’s also my right to keep the woman I love like a madman from harm,” he counters right back while I pinch the tip of my nose, breathing through the sadness. “It’s my fault we will never be parents. You can blame me.”
My head throbs with a headache. We’re getting nowhere.
“Don’t you dare bring that up again. You’re not the victim here.”
“No, Bria, I’m the fucking villain,” he spats right back.
“I can’t talk to you right now when you’re being irrational.”
“Me?” he questions, incredulity lacing every syllable.
I can’t have this conversation with him. We both need to process our feelings and calm down. I hang up on him. Even though the scars run deep, they don’t bleed anymore. Yes, I hurt, but can I blame him for wanting to keep me safe? I swallow the lump in my throat and let lonely tears roll down my cheeks.
I hate that he still blames himself, but perhaps I pushed him too far, too early. I forget I am not the only one who has to face the sad reality. All these emotions play havoc with my mind as I stare above the lake’s surface.
Chapter Thirteen
BRIA
Strong hands wrap around me a short while after I end the call. He speaks first, and I lean into his embrace.
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“Me too,” I admit, and he slides next to me as I bury my head in the crook of his arm.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks and caresses my back.
