Page 104 of One Last Thing Before You Go

“So… So you’re okay with it. With not having kids. Ever.”

He shrugs. “I was secretly kinda hoping one day I’d get a daughter who looked just like you—maybe with my eyes—but it’s okay. I think there’s very little we can’t handle don’t you think?”

I smile, that tight fist wrapped around my chest squeezing once more, but in a good way.

But I can’t let myself get off track.

“Are you sure? Because I’ve spent years—years—retraining my head and heart to not want this anymore. To be happy with this. Finn and I… It’s part of the reason why we ended things. I’m sure if we had been a better match, we could’ve survived it, but… It’s all our marriage became about. Having a damn baby. Treatments and forms and diets and negative pregnancy tests and not meeting enough criteria and money. So much money. Sex stopped being about us and instead it became this… this tool to make a baby. And it’s all I could think about. All my life revolved around. It wasn’t healthy. I wasn’t healthy.” I take a deep breath, try to calm my suddenly defeating heartbeat. “It took me years to not only accept this decision, but to embrace it. To be happy with it. To look on the bright side and look forward to a life without having kids. And I’m just scared that if we keep doing this, if we keep going where we’re going, you’re going to want it. And you’re going to try to convince me to want it, too. And I can’t go through that again. I can’t do that to myself or to us. I want to give you everything because I love you, Knox. So much. But I need to love myself more.”

“I told you. No one’s asking you to have kids. I can live without having my own kids.” There’s a hint of panic in his voice when he takes a step closer to me, reaching out to take my hand in his. “Did I assume that I would have kids at one point? Yes. Do I like them? Yes. But we don’t have to have them to be happy, to be together. I can accept this. I can live with this. We can be together and not have to do the whole 2.5 kids thing. I don’t have to want it.”

It kills me to say it, and for a second I don’t know that I can. But he deserves better than me. “But you’ll want them. You will, Knox. And you deserve it because you’re an amazing person. And you shouldn’t have to sacrifice something so huge—so massive—just to be with me. I love you enough to not take that away from you. You should find happiness with the right person who can give you the things that you need. And if we keep doing this, you’re going to change your mind. And I can’t put myself in a position again where I’m with a man I love who will leave me because I won’t give him what he needs.”

“But I don’t need that. I need you.” His eyes are red-rimmed, moisture building. My heart shatters.

For a second, I believe him. I begin to think that maybe this won’t be a problem; that he gets it. Because this is happening. Because we can get through this together. I underestimated him. I underestimated us. And I’m so happy I could fling myself into his arms and⁠—

“I mean, I know you said you tried everything, so I get if you don’t want to try the natural way anymore. And it doesn’t have to be now or even any time soon. But maybe we can try adoption, you know. A few years down the road. Maybe we can⁠—”

And there it is.

“No.” That’s when it all comes to an end. Because I won’t even accept the suggestion of it anymore.

“That’s it? We’re not… We’re not even going to discuss this?”

“You started this off by telling me you were okay with not having kids. Thirty seconds into the conversation, though, you start talking about adoption, about exploring the option together. That’s evidence enough that you can change your mind. I told you, I’m not doing it. And it isn’t because I love you less than Finn—because I know I love you more than I ever even hoped to love him. It’s because I know what it did to me and what it did to our relationship. And I’ve seen it through my perspective, and it sucked. And even when everything goes right, like how it went with my brother and his husband, it’s a lot. I am forever burnt out by it. I don’t want it. I don’t want to ever have it. I want to learn to be happy with my career. I want to make something of myself and—my god—I know some people might think I’m a horrible person, but I know I can have a happy life without kids. It’s not worth the effort for me.”

“Fine. We won’t have kids. I’d rather have you, anyway. Please don’t do this.” He grips my biceps, his blue eyes wide, pleading—filled with hurt.

I did that. It’s all my fault. I let this go on far too long.

I shake my head, something wet and salty on my lips. “I don’t believe you. I think you believe that that’s true, but… I thought we could, but then… Today, seeing you playing at the birthday party with my nieces and their friends… You love children.”

“I… I do. But just because I’m good with kids, doesn’t mean I have to have them. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be happy just being an uncle or something. Didn’t you tell me you loved being an aunt? I can love being an uncle. We’ll—We’ll spoil them. We can just be the favorite aunt and uncle.”

“No, Knox. You’re always going to have this small ember of hope that I’ll change my mind. And it’s not happening.”

“There’s no fucking ember! There’s nothing else! All there’s ever been since the second I laid eyes on you is you. Please, Lottie. Don’t do this.”

“You’re still young. This is what you think you want, but you’ll change your mind.”

“Don’t tell me what I want.”

“I won’t go through the same thing again, Knox. I just won’t. This needs to end. Tonight. Now. We can’t keep going on like there’s a future here.”

“So that’s it?” His voice breaks. “You’re not even going to give me a chance to prove to you that I can love you through this? That we don’t need kids or a ‘conventional’ life to be happy? For fuck’s sake, Lottie, you aren’t being fair.”

“I’m being the most fair. I’m giving you a chance at a happy life. And myself. I’m undoing my mistake. This was a mistake. I’m sorry. We’re over.”

He holds my face in his hands and presses his forehead to mine. “I won’t be happy without you.” His eyes water, as his thumbs caress my cheeks, wiping tears off my face. “Please don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to us.”

“You’ll thank me in five years,” I say through my tears, sniffling. “When you’re traveling the world, unattached. Or even in your backyard watching your kids chase each other around next to a wife who’s closer to your age. Who could give you all the things I couldn’t—wouldn’t. You’ll think of me fondly, as the woman who once loved you enough to let you go and allow you to have the future you didn’t think you wanted but now can’t live without.”

“But I love you. So much.”

“I know.”

I hold onto his wrists and pull his hands away from my face. He doesn’t fight me anymore—he knows I’ve won. There’s no way I’m backing down. I kiss him for the last time, on the cheek, feeling his tears beneath my lips.