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“Just a few honest questions to obtain honest answers,” he said.
She pushed food around her plate, not meeting his eyes, and said, “Okay.”
Grant swallowed hard. He finally had his wife willing to talk to him. He wanted to dive in and rattle off everything, but he had to go slow. Hope she would stick with him and trust him with what he was seeking. Which was her.
“That man the other night at the grocery store . . . ,” he started.
Hannah’s shoulders slumped slightly. “That was my father.”
“He lives around here?” Grant asked.
“Yep, but he only comes around when he needs something. He’s a drunk. Probably sick. His body can’t keep up with the crap he’s doing.”
He nodded. This was clearly painful for her. His strong wife stiffened to stone whenever sadness or fear crept in. He’d seen it before and wished he could take her in his arms and make everything better. He also knew pieces of her life from the hints she’d given in the past and from Jake and Gabe filling in some of the blanks. Grant had been lucky enough to have a wonderful father and couldn’t imagine what Hannah had gone through growing up.
“Is that the appointment you had today? Did you take him somewhere because he’s sick?”
“No,” she said, her voice soft. “I have tried taking him to the doctor in the past, but he refuses. The appointment was mine. I thought you knew through the Laura–Jake grapevine.”
Grant shook his head. “No, I didn’t know.” He wished he did. Wished he was a part of her every day and knew every moment. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just a semiannual thing I’ve had to go to since I was in high school. No big deal.”
“If it’s no big deal, then what is it?”
She took another bite and shrugged off her own words before she even spoke them. “They just check my ovaries, making sure they’re okay and these spots on them continue to be okay.”
Blood drained from Grant’s face, and his heart sputtered.
“Grant.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “I’m really okay. This is why I get checked.”
He nodded but felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. “You swear to me you’re okay?”
“I swear.” She looked over his face, and he wanted to know more. Needed her to be okay. He’d never thought for a second she wasn’t or wouldn’t always be.
She leaned back and returned to her food, something clearly going through her mind.
“What?” he asked.
She met his stare again. “Do you think about having kids?”
Her question physically pushed Grant back in his chair. That was out of the blue, yet, he could see how it’d be relevant, since Grant had recently been thinking similar things. The future, family, kids . . . he could understand, and honestly, he wanted to get her thoughts on this as well. It was a good sign she was asking and thinking about the future.
“Yes,” he said honestly. “I think about the future and having kids.”
“So you want them?”
“Yes. I never thought about it much before, but I know it’s something I’ve always wanted. Having a son to pass down—” He cut himself off from saying anything about his father’s business—now his business. “I want to pass down the kind of man my father was to my son.” That was honest, and Grant really did want to pass that, and even more, down to his children.
“A son, huh? What, girls aren’t good enough?”
“I didn’t mean that. I’d want a girl. I’d love a girl, especially if she’s like you.” Again, the most honest thing he felt. Hannah’s gaze met his, and there was a sadness behind those eyes. “I’m an only child and was raised mostly by my dad, so my brain goes straight to ‘son,’ but I wouldn’t care if we had a dozen little girls, because with you as their mom, they’d be strong and proud and gorgeous.”
Her lips parted, her brows knitting together like she’d been slapped. What had he said to make her look like that? Like he’d caused her pain.
“Do you not want kids?” he asked.
She glanced away. “No, I don’t.”
