Page 232 of ClickBack

“I wanted another child when we were married. He kept finding reasons it wasn’t the right time.”

I sit back. She hasn’t told me that before.

“For how long?”

“Long enough for me to stop asking.” She finally takes the ring off and leaves it on the table. “I knew I wasn’t having a baby with him after the divorce. I thought that meant I had decided I didn’t want one.”

“Now you think you might?”

“I don’t know. My IUD needs to be replaced in October. Dr. Holder asked what I wanted to do, and I didn’t have the answer I expected.”

For a second, I picture her pregnant. The image is so quick and so complete that I look toward the window to get away from it. I have spent months wanting this woman, wanting more days with her, wanting her on the other side of a door when I come home. I haven’t thought about a baby in those rooms.

Not like that.

“What did the doctor say?” I ask.

“That if I’m considering trying, we need to discuss it soon. My age matters. There would be things to evaluate. Risks. She wasn’t promising anything.”

I nod. “What do you want me to know?”

Giselle looks at me then, really looks, and I can see how long she has been doing this conversation without me.

“You’re twenty-nine.”

“Zel.”

“You are. You have years to decide. You’re moving. Your career is still changing. In five years, you could want a completely different life.”

I pull my hand back from the center of the table.

“Am I supposed to answer, or did you bring enough for both of us?”

Her expression hardens. “I’m trying to talk to you.”

“Then talk to me. You haven’t asked me anything yet.”

She reaches for the ring, stops herself, and leaves it alone.

“Do you want children, Jarrett?”

I should have a better answer ready. I don’t.

“I always figured I probably would.”

She looks away so fast I wish I had started somewhere else. But that is the truth. Some vague version of me, done playing or close to it, with a kid on my shoulders. I have never had to put a date on him.

“Probably,” I say again. “That’s not me telling you I need a baby.”

“You shouldn’t have to need one to want one.”

“I’m still answering.”

She presses her lips together and waits.

“I like kids. I like being around Zion. I’ve thought about what kind of father I’d be. Mostly when I was pissed off about mine.” I look at the kitchen doorway. “I don’t have some plan I’ve been keeping from you. It was a thing I assumed would happen one day.”

“And if it didn’t?”