Chapter 18
Ivy
Darkness surrounds me when I open my eyes.
Groggy, disoriented, and feeling like the roof has just collapsed on me, I scramble through my foggy memory, trying to remember what happened that is making me feel like shit.
And when every little detail from this afternoon comes back, the loud groan I let out against my pillow makes my head pound.
Apparently, fainting in front of Ford wasn’t enough—I had to puke in this presence too.
“Ivy?”
As if the universe is playing a cruel joke on me, Ford appears in my doorway. “Are you okay?”
I’m mortified and want to run away despite my aching body begging me not to move an inch.
“Better” is what I go for, because at least the urge to throw up is gone. Counting my blessings and all that.
My bedroom seems to shrink in size when he walks in. There’s a new glass of water in his hand, reminding me that he held my hair back in the bathroom.
My throat is so dry, I almost throw myself at that glass of water.
When he hands it to me, I take the longest drink known to humankind. “How long have I been asleep for?”
“Just over an hour. Joe is at Ethan’s house, studying for an exam. He texted me that he got there safely a while ago. Is that okay?”
I nod, not sure how to feel about Joe and Ford texting, or Ford staying with me alone at the house while I’m sick. All I know is that it’s not an uncomfortable feeling, and that means I’m in deep shit.
“On a scale from one to ten, how badly do you wish you were at the hospital right now?”
“Minus one,” I say honestly, placing the now empty glass on my nightstand. “My stomach is still a little upset, but I don’t feel like hell anymore.”
“But do you feel like you need to see a doctor?” he insists.
“You’re such a mother hen.”
He gives me a flat look.
“It’s just a bug,” I reassure him.
“Are you sure?” He hesitates. “What Joe said earlier….”
My cheeks heat up, and it has nothing to do with sickness. “I’m not pregnant.”
“Mm.”
He’s going to make me say it, isn’t he?
“The last time I was with a guy was two years ago. You’re aware that babies don’t come out of thin air, right?”
“Okay,” he concedes, nervously glancing everywhere but at me. It’s cute. Too bad it’s too dark to see if he’s blushing. “So, no pregnancy. Good. I mean, unless it’s not good news for you. I have no idea. Maybe you were hoping to…. You know what? I should probably stop talking.”
Oh, he’s definitely flustered.
I smirk as I stretch my arms above my head. “I don’t want to have kids, so not being pregnant is great news for me.”
He crosses those bulky arms in front of his chest. “You don’t want kids?”
I arch an eyebrow. “Why do you sound so surprised?”
“Can I sit?”
I pat my mattress, then slowly sit upright against the headboard. Crossing my legs under the covers, I try to keep a straight face. Ford is sitting on my bed, and the butterflies in my stomach are having a field day because of it, but it wouldn’t be ideal if he noticed.
“I’m not judging. I don’t want kids either.
” Leaning forward, he sits with his knees parted, his forearms draped loosely across them.
His shoulders are relaxed, and he’s looking at me with the quiet steadiness of someone who has all the time in the world.
“I just don’t meet many people who want to stay kid-free, so that’s why you caught me off guard.
All the guys at the firehouse are either dads or want to be.
Rhys has Lexi. Nash doesn’t have kids, but he wants to.
Eventually, when he gets tired of the bachelor life. ”
The atmosphere inside my room has grown more intimate. That must be why my voice comes out quieter than usual when I ask him, “Is there a reason you don’t want kids? Not that you need one, but I’m nosy.”
He doesn’t answer right away, as if he’s pondering his answer. The silence between us is never uncomfortable, so I don’t mind.
“Kids are great. I don’t think they’re annoying or an inconvenience,” he explains.
“I love spending time with Lexi. If something happened to her parents, I would step in like you’re doing with Joe—in a heartbeat, no questions asked.
But I’ve never had the desire to be a parent.
I don’t know why. Maybe because of the demands of my job or because I grew up with a firefighter dad myself, or because that dream was simply never there. ”
“Your dad was a firefighter?”
“Yeah. He’s retired now, but back then, it was hard for my mom. For my brothers and me, too, because we wouldn’t see him as much. And knowing your dad goes into burning buildings for a living and that one day he may not come home isn’t fun.”
“I can imagine.” It stresses me out that he does it, and we aren’t even together. That worry doesn’t belong to me, yet here we are.
He releases a heavy breath. “But it’s not even that. Because if I really wanted kids, I would consider a career change. Or I’d try to make it work like my dad did.”
“You simply don’t want kids, and that’s a perfectly valid reason,” I reassure him, not wanting him to feel bad. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”
He nods, lost in thought for a moment before he asks, “What about you? Do you have a reason?”
I hug my knees against my chest, hesitating. It’s not that I don’t trust Ford, but I’ve never said this out loud. And every time I say the words in the privacy of my head, a little voice accuses me of being selfish and self-centered.
“I’ve never….” My palms are sweaty from the sudden nerves, but I push through because this is Ford I’m talking to.
I’ve never felt fully comfortable around a man like I do with him, and that has to mean something.
“When I was a kid, I never dreamed of weddings or babies.
I just wanted to be happy, do what I loved, and share my life with someone who loved me back.
“I’ve been taking care of Joe for years, even before I became his guardian.
Our mom was sick, and our dad worked a lot, so Joe and I spent a lot of time with our grandmother.
But Nan’s health wasn’t the best, so even if technically we were being supervised by an adult, taking care of Joe was my job.
I know that sounds terrible—our grandma loved us, and she did all she could. We both loved her very much.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You did what you had to do.” He finds my knee and gives it a comforting squeeze from above the covers. “Keep going.”
“Our mom passed away when I was sixteen and Joe was six. Cancer. It was very hard on our dad. He didn’t talk about it, but I wasn’t blind.
” I let out a shaky breath, recalling those years.
“I started working at that age to help with Joe and the bills and somehow managed to graduate from high school at the same time. Then I went to night school for marketing, just so I had an extra diploma. I lost touch with all my friends because they went on to college, parties, and other stuff I couldn’t afford because I didn’t have time or money to spare.
But I don’t regret it. I mean, it wasn’t ideal, but all I cared about was making sure Joe had a good life. ”
An emotion I can’t describe passes over his face.
“Is that why you don’t want Joe to get a job?” he asks.
Dart, meet the bullseye.
“I know what it’s like to start working so young, especially when money is tight.
Your job becomes your entire life, and you start neglecting everything else.
Including yourself,” I say. “He deserves so much better, Ford. He deserves to be a normal teenager, go to flight school, and become a badass pilot. But if he gets a job now because he sees me struggling, just like what happened with me and my dad, all of that will go to hell. He will lose himself and his dreams trying to take care of me.”
He starts tracing soothing circles on my knee with his thumb. Despite the thick covers between us, his touch lights my skin on fire.
“That’s why I don’t want kids. I grew up being a third parent to Joe, and now I’ve become his main caretaker.
It may make me sound like a terrible person, but I don’t want to do it again.
Parenting, I mean. I love Joe, and I will never give up on him.
But when I think of carrying a baby inside me for nine months, then being responsible for them for the rest of my life, I shudder.
I feel trapped. I want to be able to live for myself one day, but if I have kids, I will be living for them.
And that’s a beautiful thing if you want it, but I… I don’t.”
“And you think that makes you selfish?” he asks quietly.
My nod is small.
“It doesn’t, Ivy. Not one bit.” He squeezes my knee again. “I’m in awe of you, you know?”
My movements come to a halt at his words, and so does my breathing.
“What you went through is beyond unfair, but I don’t want you to ever doubt that you’re the best thing that could’ve happened to Joe,” he says, shattering me.
“You’re so fucking smart, and talented, and always have a smile for everybody.
I admire you so damn much. I get that you have to put Joe first as his guardian, but why can’t you see that you deserve to put yourself first too? ”
I shake my head, my gaze lost somewhere in the slim space between us. “I’ll do it when Joe gets into flight school.”
“Why not now?”
“Because I have a goal, and I can’t afford distractions. Literally.” I let out a shaky breath, and our eyes meet again. “That was more trauma dumping than I’d anticipated. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I like listening to you. I like spending time with you.”
Despite the erratic way my heart is beating, I manage a smile. “Even when I’m puking my guts out?”
“Yeah, even then.”
“Look at us. We’ve come so far,” I tease him, the tightness in my chest getting lighter. “From you thinking I wanted to get into your pants to you willingly listening to my sob stories. That’s progress if I’ve ever seen it.”
He lets out a low chuckle. “Well, since we’re sharing sob stories….”
I nudge his thigh, encouraging him to talk.