Chapter 42
Chapter forty-two
Ruth
It takes little more than a day for Jay to start coming around to the fact that Everett and I are married. He’s still cautious, but then, my brother has always been guarded.
My friends, on the other hand, have forgiven us almost entirely.
The girls and I drank wine by moonlight, and all four of us cried.
I know what I did was selfish. I might as well have proposed at a wedding.
We got carried away in all the excitement, and with another ocean-sized separation looming ahead of us, we did the only thing we could think of in the moment: bind ourselves together, ‘til death do us part.
Our week in Phoenix is almost over. We’ve made the most of it, from the time spent with friends to the time spent with each other.
But it suddenly occurs to me—in the aftermath of some of the most glorious, earth-shattering orgasms I think I’ve ever had—that I just married this man without ever having some of the tough conversations.
The ones where we share our values, where we find out whether or not we’re on the same page before we commit to spending forever together.
I roll onto my side as Everett crawls back into bed beside me. He settles on his side, facing me, my throat directly in his eyeline as I prop myself up on one elbow.
“Do you want kids?” I ask. My mouth is dry, and I’m not sure I want to hear his answer. The second the words are out, lingering heavily in the musky air between us, I regret them. I want to take them back, bury them deep down in a box and throw the key into the ocean.
“Straight in with the deep questions, huh? Not gonna take me out to dinner first? Not gonna use a little lube?” His chuckle is light, but the tightness that appears around his eyes belies that. For the first time since meeting Everett Tanner, fear for our future begins to fog my vision.
“Be serious.”
“I don’t know, Ruth.” He sighs heavily, and a tightness begins to appear around his eyes.
I scrunch mine closed so I can’t see it.
“I guess I always saw myself with a wife and kids and a dog, someday. But I also saw Brooks and Jody standing with me at my wedding. I guess I saw my bride wearing some big floofy white dress. A few hundred people we barely know making polite small talk for hours until I could finally get my head under all those layers of skirts for some celebratory wedding night pussy eating.”
“I’m sorry I ruined your fantasy,” I say drily. I don’t open my eyes, not yet.
“Honey, you’re better than any fantasy. I’d do it again a hundred times with you and I wouldn’t change a thing.
” He curls his fingers around mine, bringing it up to kiss the back of my hand.
I finally open my eyes just in time to see him look up at me with a goofy smile. “Why—do you want kids? Are you—”
“No.” I stop him mid-sentence. I can’t let him say it. I can’t bring myself to hear the words spoken out loud, so I drop my own bomb on him. “I can’t have kids, Everett. Like, ever. Ever ever. I’m infertile.”
I made peace with my infertility a long time ago. Children were never really a great draw for me, and I’ve always been happy without them. I’ve never felt like I needed a man to be happy, and I’ve never felt that desire to be a mother.
But seeing the easy bond Everett has developed with Maisy—my best friend’s daughter, the little girl I love like she’s my own—has a wave of regret crashing down on me, and it’s so heavy all of a sudden that I can barely breathe.
Everett is silent for a long moment, searching my face. I daren’t breathe, for fear of the smallest whisper toppling this castle we’ve built.
“That’s okay. I don’t need to have kids to be happy, Ruth. All I need is you.”
Relief crashes into me: wave after wave of it; the ache in my throat, the sting in my eyes. The way I suddenly feel like I can breathe again, but I can’t breathe, all at the same time.
“Are you sure? This is a big thing; you’re allowed to think about it before you give me an answer.”
Everett pauses again, eyes still roaming, but his face is calm.
“I think—” He stops, searching for the right words.
“I think I always thought I’d have kids because that’s what we do.
It’s what’s expected of me. Work the ranch, get married, have a couple kids…
But if I’m being honest, that’s just going through the motions.
You make me want to live, baby girl, not just survive. ”
“What did I do to deserve you?” I ask. “I know I’m hard to love.”
“You’re not hard to love,” he says with a sad sigh and the tiniest hint of a smile. He takes my face in his hands, brushes away the tears with the pads of his thumbs. Kisses me softly on the forehead, and then a closed-mouth kiss to my lips. “Loving you is as true as the sunrise, baby girl.”