Page 22 of We Drank the Dawn

Ignoring the housework accusation, I skipped to the paycheck. “No, obviously you still have to work. But you don’t have to work so much. We have money—a lot of money—in the bank.”

“Which is for our future family. I’m not using it.”

My head lulled back as I groaned. “Sarah, come on. Please don’t tell me you’re still hanging onto that.”

“Hanging on to what?”

“Kids.” I looked over at her for the first time so she could see my face. I didn’t allow myself to think about the fact that I couldn’t see her red-rimmed eyes or her fiery hair. I didn’t entertain the idea of what she might look like in this moment. I didn’t wonder what expression she threw my way or what her perfect lips were doing: pursing, pressing into a tight line, or rolling together. Those wandering thoughts were too heavy for me to carry—always were. “You really think we can still have a kid?”

We’d had this conversation repeatedly, but maybe I hadn’t been direct enough. Maybe I’d let a flicker of hope remain in her heart.

“I still want a kid.” Her tone, though hurt, clung to its fire.

“How? You said it yourself that you’re in over your head. That you’re ‘killing yourself’ just trying to take care of me. How are you going to go through IVF and take care of a baby without help?”

“Without help? Why are you assuming you couldn’t help with a baby?”

“Because look at me, Sarah!” I turned toward her again and blinked away the immediate sting in my eyes, hoping she didn’t hear the trembling swell in my voice. “I can’t even hold a job.”

“That right there—how you talk to yourself—is the root of the problem. It’s so childish! You think you’re useless but it’s not true. You can do everything a seeing person can do. You just have to overcome the barrier in your mind first.”

I groaned. “You sound like Dr. Bates.”

“Good. Dr. Bates is a very wise man.”

I hated my shrink. “Well, you should know you’re working yourself into the ground to preserve an option I don’t even want anymore. Our lives have changed and there’s no fixing it.”

“You’re wrong. Obviously, we can’t reverse what happened, but I have not stopped believing for a second that you will wake up.”

That you will wake up.

I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t notice how her narrative had tipped in the last twelve months. At first, she was all we’ll make it through this and we’ll be okay. But now, her heart screamed loud and clear—I’d missed the window. The grace period was over. And I was on my own until I dragged myself up and out of the dark.

Even from across the car, I could feel the restlessness in her spirit.

Swallowing down the tension in my throat, I croaked, “You refuse to acknowledge that our future might look different than you wanted it to. This might be all we ever have.”

She snapped, “It won’t be.”

“Sarah.”

“Peter.” She said my name like a warning.

“I’m serious. What if?”

Emotion suddenly caught up with her anger, her voice wavering. “I—I can’t afford to think like that.”

“You can’t afford not to.”

Silence permeated the car and that said a lot. Sarah would never be happy with just this. She had always been so full of life, adventure pulsing through her veins. Maybe she would stay with me out of duty, but not with joy and passion. Honestly, who could?

My fists clenched in my lap and I started to tremble, holding back the urge to throw a punch through the windshield. I didn’t want that future for my wife. I didn’t want her to lose her vitality in the battle to love me until my dying days. What kind of life was that?

She deserved every good thing.

And, honestly, she was the type of person who wouldn’t rest until she possessed those good things. We had barreled off the side of the cliff, straight into a free fall, just waiting for the impact.

My jaw tightened. “Maybe you should just find someone else.”