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“I had testicular cancer. Between that and the chemo, I’m . . . a family isn’t an option for me anymore.”
He’s sterile. “There are many other ways to make a family, if you want one.”
“What kind of woman would want a man who shoots blanks? It’s in your DNA to want to reproduce and nurture life.”
She straightened her shoulders. “That’s a pretty ignorant opinion. Not all of us want to carry a baby for nine months and then take care of it for the rest of our lives. Just because it’s society’s expectation, doesn’t mean it’s ours. I’ve been in the mother role since I was seven years old. I’ve never known anything but. I love my brother, but I’m ready to have some freedom—not have to worry about if he’s eaten enough vegetables, or make his doctor appointments.”
He turned to her. “You don’t want biological children?”
She shook her head. “Maybe someday in the future, after I’ve had time to do everything I’ve put off, I’d consider foster care and eventually adoption.”
He leaned in, a small smile quirking up the side of his mouth. “So, what you’re saying is, we’d be perfect for each other.”
She chuckled. “That’s what you got out of all of that?”
“Nah, I hear what you’re saying. Not all women want or are meant to be mothers, whatever their reasons, and that’s okay.”
“Exactly.”
“What do you want to do for yourself?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Like, my bucket list?”
“Sure.”
“I want to sleep under the stars and have s’mores.” She smiled.
“You’ve never gone camping?” he asked, surprised.
She shook her head. “I want to travel, and see some of the world.”
“What else?”
“A picnic.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “We had a picnic on the mountain, didn’t we?”
She laughed. “I mean a real, checkered blanket, basket-full-of-goodies kind.”
“Tell me more.” Bently leaned in, as if captivated by her words.
Something deep inside fell into place as Belle listed off all the things she’d tucked away in the treasure box of “someday.” She felt connected to Bently. He’d bared his deepest hurts, and listened to her advice like he respected what she had to say. Now he was asking her about her dreams—things she’d held inside for so long, waiting until she could make herself the priority for the first time in her life.
She was falling. But would he be there to catch her? Or was this just temporary?
Chapter 24
Bently
Shuffling the papers on his desk, Bently looked through the stack of messages Betsy had left while he was out on medical leave.
“Evans, you’re back.” Vargas walked in, taking a seat across from him.
“Miss me?”
“I won’t miss the desk duty I had to do in your place.” She laughed.
“Any leads?”
