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“It’s okay,” I say, resting my head on the back of the couch. “There’s leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry.”
“Is Abby in bed?”
“Yeah,” I answer softly, and he looks disappointed. I know how much he hates working late and missing evenings at home.
“Where’s Dean?” he asks as if he’s already expected to be living in our house and not out in his apartment where he technically lives.
Caleb wants things to seamlessly fall into place without any tough conversations or acknowledgments.
I close my book and turn toward him. “He’s at work.”
Immediately, Caleb’s expression changes, frustration washing over his face as he marches toward the stairs and up to our room. Standing from the couch, I follow him.
He’s tearing off his shirt, looking aggravated when I enter. I lean against the doorframe. Clearly, he’s upset about the idea that Dean is still a sex worker and Dean stillworks. But right now, we have bigger things to discuss.
“Caleb…” I say carefully.
He spins toward me. “He can’t seriously keep working, can he? That’s not right.”
“Caleb…” I repeat.
“I can’t stand the thought of him at the club, letting people use him for his body like that.”
“I have something to tell you.”
He flings his tie across the chair and lets out a disgruntled sigh.
“I started my period,” I mutter softly. Everything about his demeanor softens.
“Oh, Briar…” He crosses the room quickly, pulling me in for a tight embrace. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper into his chest. “Dean was here.”
His hands rub comfortingly on my back as he kisses my head. “I’m glad.”
“But I need to talk to you,” I murmur.
Holding me by the shoulders, he stares into my eyes. A sense of contentment and security washes over me. Just having him close and feeling this connection between us makes me feel as if I can say anything.
We’ve been through so much together, and we’ll go through so much more, but it will always be us. No matter what, we’ll have each other. In sickness and in health. In good times and bad. Those vows rang with truth, and they always will.
“I can’t do this anymore,” I whisper. His brows furrow and I feel his fingers tighten around my arms.
“Do what?”
“I don’t want to have another baby.”
With a sigh, he rests his forehead against mine.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, fighting off tears. “I know you really had your heart set on?—”
“You don’t have to apologize, Briar,” he says gently.
I peel him away from me and force him to look at me. “You’re not upset?”
“How could I be upset?” he asks. “I have everything I’ve ever wanted. Another baby would have been great, but I want you to be happy even more. Not to mention…” he adds, placing a kiss on my shoulder. “When you said you couldn’t do this anymore, part of me worried you were talking about us.”
I jerk backward, staring at him in shock. “Caleb, how could you think that?”
