Fuck, this feels so silly. It’s just a house. I could stay in my apartment building until Adam and I are ready…but then I also lose that dream of carrying my baby into that home that I’ve loved since I was a little girl.
Wonderful. So either way, I have to give another thing up. If there’s irony or karma, I don’t get it. I can’t fall apart at this table, I just can’t.
I sputter out this laugh that’s also half-cry. “Of course…I’m going to excuse myself for just a moment.”
“Mia,” Adam says softly, and I feel his hand tighten on mine, but I slip it out of his hold.
“I need just a minute.” I try to say it in a strong tone, but this isn’t exactly my best performance.
Going into the house from the terrace doors, I make it around the hallway before I feel my tears about to break free.
I frantically fan my face. “This is ridiculous,” I say, only to myself. “It’s just a house. I shouldn’t get so worked up.” A tear or two slips out, and I fan harder at my face to keep any more from falling. Shit, maybe I need tough love. “You’re very lucky to be able to have a baby, so stop crying.”
Dammit, it’s easier said than done. What hormone is this that is making me cry so much? Or is it the fact that I’ve repressed my tears for so long and now that I have an excuse they start free-falling?
A warm hand comes to my side and Adam’s soft voice washes over me. “Mia, baby, it’s okay.”
When he spins me slowly to face him, all bets are off. I’m crying again, because apparently that’s all I can do now at any bump in the road.
“This is so silly, why am I so sad about a house?”
“It’s not silly. It’s a place that you love and want to be able to raise your child there. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being upset right now.”
“It feels like there is. I should be happy we’re having a baby, right? I mean, not everyone gets this, so why am I being selfish?”
“Mia, stop?—”
“I just feel so guilty, Adam. Why am I upset about this house? I thought I had fully accepted the idea of becoming a mom and having this baby—like, I’m so lucky I can do this and I have you…that should be enough for me, so why?—”
Adam cuts me off with his lips on mine. The kiss is unlike our usual passion-filled ones; it’s soft and tender.
Pulling back, he holds my face in his hands. “No more talking. Listen to me. There is nothing wrong with how you’refeeling. You’re allowed to be upset about all of these things. You are allowed to be grateful for having a baby and sad about the circumstances around it at the same time. Stop putting this pressure on yourself. Please.”
I want to agree with him, but the words are stuck in my throat. And really, I don’t want them to come out and be a lie. I’ve always worked well under pressure, but now it’s slapping me in the face, and my hormones can’t take it.
Adam takes a slow breath. “Please. For me, baby?”
I swallow as hard as I can and force a nod. “I’ll try. That’s the best I can give you.”
He hums in amusement, then kisses my forehead. “I’ll take it.” Pulling me into a tight hug, my breathing starts to mimic his as I try to calm down. He places another kiss on the top of my head. “We also don’t need to talk about this anymore right now, but I’ll marry you, Mia, if that’s what you want.”
An uptick in my heart rate starts again. “What? Adam?—”
“Just hear me out. We can discuss it more later, but Mia, we’re always going to be tied together with the baby. This whole situation is complicated, but I’d sign whatever prenup you want.”
My head starts to spin. Leaning back, I look him in the eyes. “Wait, are you really suggesting we get married so I can have the house?”
“Mia, I’m scared shitless at the idea of being a father, but the idea of having a life being tied to you doesn’t scare me. I’m not saying we do it…I’m just saying it’s not off the table. There’re other benefits we can consider. I know we discussed it a little this morning, and there’s things you don’t want to give up—things I don’t want you to give up either…”
“What about you?” I take a few deep breaths as I wrap my head around his words. He had a lot of concern about me, and Idon’t think he touched on himself once. “What do you not want to give up? This is about you, too.”
“You,” he says plainly and plants another kiss on my forehead. “We’re in this together, Mia. Married or not, in that house or in another…I refuse to give up you.”
I was wrong. There’s nothing ironic or some karma making its way back around. I’m just the luckiest girl in the world, and the universe is forcing me to hold on to it. Maybe it’s my grandparents messing with me in the afterlife.
They would’ve loved Adam.
I think I love him, but I’ve been feeling so many things lately that I’m not sure voicing it would be fair. When I do tell him, I want it to be clear that I mean it without all these other heavy emotions clouding the moment.
