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“No, you don’t.”
“I do.”
“How?”
“I just feel it in my bones.”
“No, you’re trying to trick me into telling you.”
“Never. That’s not me.”
Right.
We pass the neighbourhood sign, and I breathe through the anxiety that threatens to shackle me. It’s so vibrant here. A place full of life and noise. You start a family in a place like this. Raise your kids. It wasn’t like that in the past, but this isn’t the past. It’s the now.
“Do you want kids?” I blurt out. Scowling at myself for changing the conversation so drastically, I tug at the tie of my bandana.
I’ve wondered about her opinion on children for a while. I’d give her anything she wanted. But I think I’d be a shit father. She hasn’t mentioned children for years. Not since we were kids ourselves. I know she wants to focus on her career. I’ll support that decision. Her opinion might change in the future, though. I need to be prepared if it does.
“Are you taking me somewhere we’ll end up with a kid when we leave?” she asks.
I blow out a breath. “No. Just curious.”
Risking a glance at her, I watch her roll her lips, eyelashes moving behind the blindfold.
“Maybe. I haven’t given it much thought. I’m not ready for them yet, that’s for sure,” she confesses.
“But when you are?”
“Do you want children, Noah?”
I tap the steering wheel. “I’m asking about you.”
“And it isn’t just my choice. Unless you’re planning on leaving me, that is.” Her voice has grown threatening, and I almost laugh at her anger.
There’s my little Devil.
“Never,” I promise.
“Then I want to know what you want as well.”
I turn the car down the road on the left, the one that will lead us to our destination. Can I imagine our kids running down these streets in the summer?
What if we have the same relationship I had with my dad growing up?
“I want you to be happy. If that means babies, then we’ll have as many babies as you want. If that means no babies, then I’ll give you whatever else you want. Seeing you happy makes me happy. That’s what I know for certain.”
Her eyes are covered, but I know she’s facing me without having to look. “I love you, Noah. Of course I would like to have a family with you. But I’m not focused on children. I want us both to experience our lives together before I even contemplate them. You’re twenty-five, and I’m twenty-six. We’re still young. And I would never make you do anything you weren’t comfortable with just because you think it would make me happy. We’re a team. You and me. Right?”
I swallow dryly. “Right.”
“I want you to be open with me. Especially about something as important as children. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Our house comes into view, the street in front of it packed with vehicles. My—our—family is here, waiting for us.
“Our kids would hate me.”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “They would love you just like I do.”
