Page 79 of Keeping Score

“It’s because I’m happy that I want us to move forward. I want us to have a life together.”

“What do we have now?” I asked, affronted.

We spent every day together. Most nights. He was the person I wanted to call before anyone else. The one I wanted beside me for all my big moments. I loved him, in every sense of the word.

But marriage? I couldn’t picture it. Not to anyone.

“What’s even happening right now?” He shook his head, as if in a daze. “I thought we were on the same page here.”

So had I.

“Brody, I love you. Isn’t that enough?”

“If you love me, why can’t you marry me, Mags?” His voice sounded agonized.

“I need time,” I scrambled for an excuse. “You can’t just spring this on me like this.”

“Time,” he muttered to himself, pulling himself to his feet with considerable effort. “More time than the past five years?”

“That’s not fair,” I shook my head. “We’ve been busy all this time. I’ve been working. Making a name for myself—”

“And now you have one. You’ve won every award you can possibly win. You’ve dedicated all of your twenties to being the best damn lawyer in Boston and you’ve done it—”

“And you’re upset about it?” I asked, knowing he wasn’t but feeling the ugly instinct rise up in me. The urge to fight. To deflect. To cause chaos instead of dealing with the problem in front of me.

I’d rather him be mad at me than see that look of devastation on his face. I couldn’t bear to see him sad. I’d rather have him hate me than watch his heart break.

“You know I’m not,” he countered. “I’m more proud of you than I’ve ever been of anything. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever known.”

“So, what’s the issue?”

“I don’t see why your career has to get in the way of us getting married. Do you think you can’t be successful and my wife at the same time?”

“Things would change.” I crossed my arms against my chest.

“No, they really wouldn’t. That’s the point. We already live together. We’re already committed to each other. All we’d be doing is making it permanent.”

“It’s just paperwork!” I countered.

“You love paperwork!” He matched my volume.

“And what about the kids?”

“What kids?”

“You want to get married and have kids, don’t you? You can’t honestly think that won’t change our lives.”

“Getting married doesn’t automatically put a baby in you, Mags,” he said adamantly. “It’s not just something that happens to you. You get to choose it, when you want it.”

“I can’t do this,” I said, grabbing my head as though it might implode. “It’s too much. I can’t think.”

Weddings. Changes. Promises.

I hated making promises. They made me feel boxed in and claustrophobic. The idea of never being able to change my mind. To take something back.

And people lied. They didn’t take marriage seriously. People got divorced after vowing to spend their whole life with someone.

I saw it every day. More than most people.