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“I don’t know how graceful I was. I’m pretty sure Bridgette hates me.”
“She doesn’t. She’s just having a hard time.”
“With the move?”
“No. I think she more than anyone wanted to come here. To get away from ...” He trailed off, leaving me hanging. “Anyway, give her some time. She’ll warm up to you. I know she will. It’s just hard for her to trust people.”
“She’s so young. That breaks my heart.” Being jaded by the hand life dealt you shouldn’t be allowed until at least your mid-twenties.
“I can only blame myself.” He sounded so defeated.
I was becoming more and more curious. “I suppose you won’t tell me why.”
He rubbed his nose against mine. “Let’s just say I should have picked a better mother for my children.”
“You do realize I can’t have children, right?” I choked out, registering it was the first time I’d ever had to broach that subject with a man. With Jared I was so certain we would have children; I never even fathomed it wouldn’t be a possibility. Not like I was some spring chicken now, but women my age had babies all the time. And men Patrick’s age had children more often than that. For all I knew, he wanted more.
“Isabelle, I apologize for that callous statement. I did not mean to hurt you.”
“It’s not your words. I just need you to understand. You wouldn’t have a Rory or a Bridgette if you’d married me. Nor could I give you any future babies.”
“I never wanted you for the children you might give me.”
“That’s good,” I said, so wishing we didn’t have to have this conversation. That I could still hope for children.
“I’m sorry, Isabelle. I know that it doesn’t take away the pain.”
“Most of the time I deal with it just fine, but sometimes ... I feel it consuming me. Like a part of me will always be missing.” I wanted that hole to go away, but I knew it wouldn’t.
He took me into his arms and wrapped me up tightly, my head landing on his chest.
I breathed in his scent, shaking from the cold, from his touch. How did I feel so at home?
“What can I do?” he asked.
I clung tighter to him. “This works for now.”
“My arms are here for you anytime, though I feel that may be self-serving on my part.” He kissed my head.
After a few moments of soaking him in, trying to just enjoy the gift of being together again, I began to think maybe he was right. Maybe we had time to sort out the past while we focused on the present. All I knew was, being in his arms felt magical. It didn’t take the pain away, but it lessened the blow somehow. I thought of some other things too. “Did you mean what you said in there about our time in the hot tub?” I flushed just thinking about all the wonders of that night so long ago.
His heart thudded repeatedly as he made me wait for an answer. “Every word,” he finally said.
“Why didn’t you—”
“Tell you? How could I? I knew how crazy it was—and still is, when I think about it. And you already had your doubts. Besides, I thought we had time.”
I could now understand why he was so hesitant to rehash the past. He was afraid to miss out on our future. The future he’d thought we would have. I knew then that if we were to move forward—and even backward, like we needed to—I would have to find a way to help him see that we had time.
“Patrick, maybe we needed the time apart so we won’t make the mistakes we made with our previous spouses. Of course, we will make new ones. But my grandma always used to say, ‘Waiting is more precious than gold when it’s the right thing to do.’” She probably got that fromReader’s Digest. “Hopefully, this will be worth the wait.”
He gave me a good squeeze. “I believe I already know the answer.”
I was happy to hear that.
“You’re freezing; let’s get you home.”
That was a good idea—my teeth were beginning to chatter. “I’m still not used to the winters here.”
