Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
Aurora
The walk from the hotel to Deacon’s townhouse gives me a chance to think.
He was so insistent that I come over again, so sure that we could make things work between us, that I started to wonder if it really might be possible.
Especially when he messaged me later on Monday asking me to come to the townhouse tonight.
I’d spent the entire day on Tuesday beaming at the idea that maybe there was a way that Deacon and I could actually work out.
But when he messaged me this morning and told me not to come at six to see Willow before she went to bed, but to wait until eight, I knew things had shifted for him.
Maybe I shouldn’t even bother going. But I need the closure.
I walk up the steps to the townhouse and take a deep breath before I press the bell.
The way he doesn’t smile when he answers the door says it all.
He’s had time to think.
At least he’s done it now, and not in twelve months or two years when I’m even deeper in.
This should be easier to come back from.
“Hey,” he says.
I do my best to pull my mouth into a smile. “Hi.”
“Come in.”
I follow him into the kitchen, and he pours us two glasses of wine. The nanny has already left and the silence between us seems to amplify the glug of the wine into the glass.
“Shall we sit?” he says.
There’s been no kiss, no hug, no touching at all.
I don’t know why he’s bothering with the wine. We just need to say what needs to be said and…I don’t know what happens after that.
As we head to the sofas, I have an urge to toss my wineglass over my shoulder and bolt for the door. Why do I need to endure this next bit?
“I spoke to Gabby earlier,” he says. “She’s pregnant.”
I close my eyes. Normally a pregnancy is happy news. But I understand that it will have allowed him to see everything more clearly now. He wants what Gabby has. He wants to extend his family.
I can’t give him that.
The shift in mood makes sense now. He doesn’t want me to meet Willow again. Because it would be the last time.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I should have told you earlier that I couldn’t have children. I’m only just getting used to the idea myself, and when I met you, things were never meant to extend beyond the summer…”
He looks confused. “What? Gabby’s pregnant. I’m not sad because I want more children and I’m jealous. I’m concerned about the impact on Willow.”
His expression is entirely genuine. I don’t think he’s consciously thinking about having children, but it can’t be a complete shock. She’s in her mid-thirties and is getting married. He must have suspected that they might be trying for children pretty soon.
“It will be a change for her,” I say. I know how much Deacon guards consistency in Willow’s life and this will be a challenge.
But I still can’t help thinking that part of his concern is that when he pictures a life with me, he knows more biological children wouldn’t be an option.
I’m sure it plays into his reaction to Gabby’s pregnancy, even if only subconsciously.
“She’s going to go from being an only child with one home to being one of several siblings where she’s shunted from house to house every week.”
“Several siblings?” I ask, slightly confused.
“Gabby always wanted four children. She’s not going to stop at one.”
“But not immediately, right? Ray doesn’t have children, and Gabby’s not carrying twins.”
He shakes his head. “This is a huge shift. It’s not what I wanted for Willow to… I wanted her…”
“You equate her happiness with her not having to endure anything difficult or new.”
“Maybe I do,” he says, like seeing it in a different way would be impossible. “As a kid, change was never a good thing.”
He’s blocked out the good things. But it’s understandable.
Losing a sibling must be the worst thing that could ever happen.
Knowing Deacon, on some level, he’s blamed himself all these years and is trying to make amends by making Willow’s life perfect.
I understand him, but it doesn’t make it better.
“Given how much chaos Gabby has unleashed on Willow,” Deacon continues, “I just don’t think this is a good time to be… I don’t think it’s a good time for us.”
His words land like an anvil at my feet, tugging my heart with it.
There it is. There’s the bad news I’ve been expecting ever since we danced at Ryder’s birthday party. The chink of light seals up like a zip closing a winter coat and it’s gone.
Disappeared.
I’m plunged into darkness.
It’s over.
I can see the flaws in his argument. However hard he tries, Willow will have to endure pain at some point in her life. But I stay silent. There’s no point in saying anything. He can’t hear me, and I’m not here to convince someone that they have room in their life for me.
“I should go.” I stand up and wipe down my jeans like they’re covered in…I don’t know what. I need to be cleansed of something. Of this feeling of hopelessness that’s growing inside me. I need air. I need space. I need to get away from here.
For weeks now, Deacon has been the only place I’ve wanted to be. But now? Now all I can think about is leaving this house, him, New York City.
I want to go home.