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“But you told Camden that you wouldn’t ever be with me in real life,” I told him, the though still stinging.
He shook his head. “He caught me off guard and it was a stupid thing to say. It was also a lie. I’m sorry I hurt you like that.”
My breath caught in my throat, and tears stung in my eyes. I was smiling so hard my cheeks hurt, but I didn't try to stop it. I was stunned and touched by his words. I could hardly believe this was really happening. It was better than anything I could have imagined, and I was so happy.
"I love you, too, Mark," I said. "I always have. And I want us to be a family."
Mark grinned and leaned forward to catch my lips in a kiss. It was soft and full of promise and love. I sighed into him, my hand lifting up to rest on his chest. When the kiss ended, he leaned his forehead against mine.
"I don't want to go," he whispered. "I don't want to leave you here."
I thought about it for a second. "You don't have to. This is my office. I don't have to work today."
He smiled even wider. "Then I say take the day off."
I kissed him again. "Done."
20
MARK
So that is what it was supposed to feel like.
Spending the day with Carmela had been delightful. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to do, just a general outline, but that seemed to work out better. First, we went to a little boutique shop on Main Street that sold baby stuff and just let ourselves sink into the reality of it. I was especially hit by looking at the tiny onesies, feeling myself torn between wanting a boy or a girl.
Eventually, I decided it didn’t matter. I just wanted them to be healthy, which meant I needed to make sure Carmela stayed healthy. This lead us to our discussion about lunch.
An hour or so later, a couple of bags of unisex clothes and one or two toys stuffed in the bag from the boutique, we dropped by the diner to grab lunch. But I had no interest in eating there. Instead, we packed everything up, drove out to the ranch, and made our way deep onto the property, way back where the resident cows grazed among hills of grass and the horses roamed free.
“I’m glad our baby will be able to grow up with all this,” I said, gesturing to the land and the animals.
It felt good to say ‘our.’ The expression on her face seemed to say she felt that way too.
“It’s pretty fabulous,” she said. “I love it out here. As much as I love my job, being out in the dirt with the horses… it’s calming. When I don’t have to teach ex-best friends how to ride, that is.”
I laughed and opened up the bottle of orange juice I’d brought with me so Carmela would have something other than water. In an effort of solidarity, I’d brought some ginger ale and mixed the two to make a fizzy drink rather than beer or wine for myself.
“Fancy,” she said as I handed her the drink.
“I thought so,” I said. “I used to drink these all the time when I was a kid. Dad made them on special holidays.”
Carmela took a sip and closed her eyes with a smile.
“Oh, that’s delicious,” she said.
“Right?”
We took a few moments to eat our sandwiches and drink in silence as we looked out over the fields.
“So, I wanted to say how sorry I was for how I reacted last night,” I began.
“Don’t,” she said. “It’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t,” I said. “I’ve been mad at myself all night last night and all morning this morning about it. When you told me about the baby, I walked away from you.”
“Mark, really, it’s okay,” she said, smiling. “I understand. It makes sense that you would need some time to really wrap your head around it. I won’t lie, it stung a little, but it made sense. I don’t blame you for how you reacted.”
“Well, I still feel like I should have reacted better than I did,” I said. “So, forgive me.”
“You are forgiven,” she said, her hand reaching over and clenching mine. “I promise.”
She smiled again, and I felt a little smile come up one side of my mouth too. It felt good to get that off my chest and even better that she would be so forgiving about it. I had been worried all night that I’d ruined everything.
“You know,” I said, “I’ve always wanted to be a father.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said, laughing softly to myself. It was hard to admit any of this, but around her, I felt safe. “I always saw myself as a father, like my dad was, like his. They all had sons first. In my father’s case, obviously, it was just me. Mom died when I was still little.”
