Page 62 of Toe the Line


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The emotions pummeling my chest were too much. I both loved and hated him for throwing this curveball. I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Archie. I…can’t take you up on this. You’re just coming off of a divorce, for Christ’s sake. It’s not even final yet. Even if you were my only option on Earth, I couldn’t do that to you. It’s not fair. Please don’t be offended by my reaction. I appreciate your offer. But I just…can’t.”

On top of everything else, having this man’s baby would dredge up old feelings I’d worked so hard to overcome.

“Okay.” Archie looked down at his feet. “The offer still stands, if you change your mind. But I understand your hesitation, and I respect your decision.” He nodded. “No hard feelings, okay?”

I took a few steps toward him. “I will never forget that you wanted to do this for me.”

A look of melancholy crossed his face before he scrubbed his hand over it. He’d either regretted offering or was disappointed in my answer.

This was messing me up inside. Deep within my soul, I wanted nothing more than to have Archie Remington’s baby. But I wanted everything with Archie. That irrational piece of my soul didn’t want him to impregnate me because he felt sorry for me. It wanted him to love me. And bearing his baby would kill me if that weren’t the case. Because it would only make me love him more.

• • •

Two weeks after Archie went back to California, I was still consumed by thoughts of his proposal. I’d shut down Archie’s offer in front of him, but it was alive and well in my head, taunting and torturing me.

On a rainy Wednesday afternoon, I was supposed to be going through b-roll for an upcoming piece on mail-order brides, but I couldn’t concentrate.

I regretted the way his New York trip had ended. The tone for the rest of Archie’s stay had shifted after that Saturday evening. After previously saying he hadn’t wanted to waste his precious time with me, the next day he’d suggested we go see a Broadway show after all. I think we’d both needed a distraction from the tension in the air.

When I’d hugged him goodbye at the airport that Monday morning, the lingering regret nearly paralyzed me. I’d lacked the ability to articulate my feelings, but I’d been overcome with appreciation for him and didn’t want to let him go.

Since then, I remained conflicted, going through every donor option in the cryobank database again. Not a single one felt right. I was beginning to think maybe this wasn’t going to happen for me. I couldn’t bite the bullet. I kept waiting for it—a feeling of comfort. Of love. Of excitement. That right feeling.

As shocking as Archie’s proposal had been, beyond logistics, I hadn’t really imagined what accepting it might be like. I wouldn’t allow myself to visualize it for even a second because I was scared that would make me want it enough to consider it.

Yet for some reason on that rainy Wednesday afternoon, sitting at my desk and staring out at the busy city street, raindrops pelting my window, I closed my eyes and let myself visualize what it would be like to have a baby with Archie.

Just this once.

I saw myself pregnant, massaging my belly.

I saw Archie rubbing my back.

I saw Archie holding my hand during the birth.

I saw what I imagined our baby would look like, with Archie’s almond-shaped eyes and sun-kissed hair.

I might not have trusted Archie with my heart, but I trusted him—as a human, as a father, as a friend. As someone who would never desert me.

Taking Archie up on his offer felt scary. But when I immersed myself in it, it was the only scenario thus far that felt right.

After that I couldn’t imagine anything else.

• • •

“I have to talk to you about something,” I told my boyfriend a few nights later at dinner. My heart pounded, and my palms were sweaty; I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Jason set his fork aside. “You alright?”

“There’s been something weighing on me. It’s time I told you.”

His forehead wrinkled. “Talk to me.”

Over the next several minutes, I confessed everything—from Archie’s proposal to my doubts about using an anonymous donor.

For the first time probably ever, my cool and confident boyfriend showed a look of true concern. Despite knowing all about Archie’s visit, he hadn’t seen this coming any more than I had when Archie dropped the bomb.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Noelle. That would be harder for me to stomach than you getting sperm from a stranger.”

“I know. I can absolutely understand why you feel that way.”

Jason gnawed at his bottom lip, looking contemplative. “At the same time, I can’t in good conscience stop you if it’s what you really want. I care about you a great deal. And I’d love to continue to see where things go with us. I don’t have the right to keep you from something I can’t give you myself.”

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