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Ainsley nodded. “I think I know what you mean. My father’s ex-wife, Selina, is a real piece of work. I’m not sure why they were ever together. Well,” she amended quickly, “I’m pretty sure she was only in it for the money, but I don’t know what Dad ever saw in her.”
Santiago raised one eyebrow, prompting Ainsley to ask, “What?”
“Is she pretty?”
Ainsley scoffed and gently smacked his hand as she pulled away. “Men.”
He shrugged. “It’s a valid question. I mean, put yourself in his shoes for a minute. His first wife has died, he’s got three kids at home and a company to run. A beautiful woman shows up and lavishes him with attention, making him forget the stress of his life for a little while. It’s only natural he’d fall for her.”
Ainsley crossed her arms. “Is that what happened to you? You fell for a pretty face in New York, someone to distract you from the pressures of the big city?”
Santiago shook his head. “Hardly. I haven’t gotten seriously involved with anyone.”
“Why’s that?”
Because they’re not you, his brain supplied helpfully. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the direction of his conversation. Talking to Ainsley was a pleasure, but he didn’t want her to know that he still missed her in that way.
“Just haven’t found the right person, I guess,” he said lamely.
She studied him for a moment, her expression sympathetic. “Are you afraid of turning into your parents?” she asked quietly.
The question hit him like a punch to the gut, an unexpected blow that stunned him for a few seconds. He’d never told her that. Never been able to work up the courage to share the truth with her. Even though it was his
greatest fear, he knew how ridiculous it sounded and he hadn’t wanted Ainsley to think he was lying to her when he’d left. But perhaps he should have given her more credit.
Santiago struggled to find his voice, knowing she deserved a response. “I haven’t exactly had the best role models,” he admitted.
“No,” she murmured. “You haven’t.”
Unable to bear her scrutiny any longer, he changed the subject. “What about you?” he asked. “Why is there no ring on your finger?”
Ainsley held out her left hand and looked at it appraisingly. “Actually, there is,” she teased.
“You know what I mean.”
The smile faded from her face and she shrugged. “Same reason, I suppose. Not the parent thing. The finding the right person thing.” She looked down, tracing the rim of her cup with the tip of her forefinger. “Men aren’t exactly lining up around the block to date a workaholic who can’t have babies.”
Santiago’s heart cracked at her words. He’d known she couldn’t have children—she’d made that clear from the beginning of their relationship. An emergency surgery during Ainsley’s childhood had resulted in massive internal scarring, encasing her ovaries and rendering her infertile. She’d always been matter-of-fact about it, and truth be told, he hadn’t been bothered by the news. He was attracted to Ainsley for who she was, not for the hypothetical children she could provide. But it seemed that perhaps her outwardly calm acceptance of her condition hid an inner turmoil she’d never shown him before.
“Has anyone ever said that to you?” He tried to keep his voice even, but just the thought of a man making her feel bad because of her inability to have children made Santiago’s blood boil. She didn’t deserve to be treated like that; she was a vibrant, amazing woman, not someone’s broodmare.
Ainsley shrugged one shoulder, not meeting his eyes. “I can read between the lines. I usually wait to tell people until we’ve gotten to know each other a bit. When they stop returning my calls, I get the message.”
He remembered when she’d told him. How she’d seemed nervous and preoccupied. He’d asked her about it, but she’d said everything was fine. Then, in the middle of dinner, she’d set her fork down and announced she couldn’t have children.
He could still see the defensive light in her eyes, the way her chin had been turned up, as though daring him to challenge her. He’d asked a few questions and that was that. She’d seemed a little deflated by his underwhelming reaction, but as time had passed, she’d come to accept he’d spoken the truth when he’d told her he didn’t need to have biological children.
Was she still at peace with the limitations of her body? Or had something changed?
“How do you feel about it?” he asked softly.
She glanced up, meeting his eyes for a second before looking away again. “I thought I was okay, but as the years have passed, it’s gotten a little harder to accept that I can’t have kids. When I was younger, I thought I wouldn’t care. I’d create this amazing career and fill my life with friends and dogs. But the older I get, the more I feel like I’m missing out.” Her hands tightened on the cup, her knuckles going white. “I see my friends having kids and I wonder what it’s like.”
“You can still be a mom, if that’s what you want,” he said. “There’s always adoption, or perhaps IVF.”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I’ve considered that. I guess part of me is just curious to know what it’s like to be pregnant and to give birth. To have this new little person that is a part of me, you know?”
“I do.” Santiago had wondered the same, from time to time. But in the end, he always circled back to the same conclusion: fatherhood was great, but it wasn’t something he felt compelled to do with his life.
