Chapter 11 #3
“I hate you,” she whispered with tears coating her lips. “Why can’t you be like other men? Men who aren’t mature enough for these conversations? Men who ignore these topics and leave me be?”
“Because those men inflict damage on women, and if you’re going to leave me, you deserve to know what love feels like so you accept nothing less in the future.”
“Don’t talk about loving other men.”
“Trust me, I don’t want to.” He pulled her against his chest, and she buried her tears in his shirt.
“I can’t answer you tonight,” she sobbed. “I’m too tired. I’m too… everything. Can we just go to bed? Together?”
“Yeah.” Eamon released her to unlock the front door, but before she could cross the threshold, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to bed.
Bel stared at the ceiling since she’d forbidden herself from checking the clock… again. She couldn’t sleep, an affliction that didn’t plague her dog or her boyfriend, so she lay motionless and frustrated below the luxury sheets.
“This is useless.” She sat up and glared at Eamon’s peaceful form, and, annoyed that he could sleep so well after such a day, she slipped out of bed before she woke him to suffer the insomnia with her.
Her escape went undetected until she reached the bedroom door, and then the ever-faithful click of nails chased after her to her library.
“What’s wrong?” Briar’s voice exploded through the cell’s connection on the fourth ring, and Bel cringed as she and Cerberus settled onto the window reading nook. She’d stopped checking the time, but it didn’t take red numbers to tell her it was late.
“I’m fine,” Bel said. “I’m sorry. I had a rough day and can’t sleep. Everything is swirling in my brain, and you’re the only person who might help me make sense of it.”
“Okay.” The slumber returned to her sister’s voice. “Way to give me a panic attack.”
“Sorry…” Bel checked the time on her phone and grimaced. She shouldn’t have called. “I’ll let you go back to sleep and call you in the morning.”
“I’m up now,” Briar said. “What’s going on?”
“Would you have married Flynn if he hadn’t wanted kids?”
“That’s what you woke me up to ask?”
Bel could practically feel her sister’s glare through the phone.
“This isn’t about me, is it?” Briar caught on. “Eamon doesn’t want kids?”
“No, and it’s a hard no. He isn’t open to adopting either.”
“Gotcha,” Briar said. “Can’t say that surprises me. He’s great with our kids and your dog, but I don’t see a father when I look at him.”
“I guess I should’ve seen that coming,” Bel said, “but this changes my future. If I stay with him—which I want to, because I love him—it means I’ll never have kids. So, what would you have done if Flynn hadn’t wanted children?”
“It’s hard to imagine that because answering that is like erasing my sons. But if he’d admitted in the beginning that he didn’t want kids, I wouldn’t know what I was losing. So would I have stayed with him?”
“I’ve always thought you two were soulmates.”
“We are, and I knew almost immediately that he was the one… but we both wanted kids,” Briar said.
“Our dreams and beliefs lined up very well, but as much as I love him, if he hadn’t wanted at least one child, then he wouldn’t have been my soulmate.
We started a family later than most couples, but our future plans always aligned.
So, I guess that answers your question. If he hadn’t wanted to start a family, that would’ve been my first sign that he wasn’t the man for me. ”
“Even if you loved him?” Bel shifted to pull Cerberus’ comforting weight onto her pounding chest. She didn’t like the direction her sister’s reasoning was headed.
“Even if I loved him,” Briar repeated. “Because that love would’ve eventually turned into resentment when he denied my dreams or disappointment when he didn’t change his mind.
It’s better to end a relationship and remember it fondly than let it fester into an unrecognizable hatred.
You love Eamon. We all see it, but if you want kids, and he doesn’t, it’ll drive a wedge between you.
Better to break up before you get in too deep.
You still have your own place. You aren’t married.
If kids are a deal breaker, make that decision now. ”
“I was afraid you were going to say that,” Bel said after an uncomfortably long silence.
“You didn’t need me to say it,” Briar said. “You already knew. You just didn’t want to be the one to admit it, but why is this bothering you? I’ve never heard you talk about kids.”
“Eamon told me about his stance on children at my birthday party, and the case I’m working involves a couple’s only daughter. Her death amplified his conviction.”
“Understandable,” Briar said. “But I didn’t think you wanted kids.
You’ve never once mentioned starting a family, and no offence, baby sis, but you’re thirty-five.
You’ve focused on your career, not that I can talk.
I waited to get pregnant because Flynn and I chose our careers and house first, but we’ve been planning for the boys since he proposed.
But you’re in your mid-thirties, and you’ve never mentioned babies to even me. ”
“Because kids were never really on the table,” Bel said.
“Then why is this bothering you?”
“Because while they weren’t on the table, they were still on the kitchen counter. Not in front of me, but somewhere within reach if I change my mind.”
“And Eamon’s stance means the option is no longer even in the house.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, you called for my two cents, so here it is. You never talked about kids. I’ve known you for thirty-five years, Isobel Emerson, and do you remember what you talked about nonstop as a kid?
Becoming a detective with a police dog. Oh, how you wanted a dog.
Every Christmas, you wrote Santa a letter asking for one, and then when you figured out Dad was Santa, you begged him.
Without Mom, Dad couldn’t handle a puppy and six daughters, so he never got you that pet.
He did give you a stuffed German Shepard for your birthday, though, and you carried him everywhere with your plastic police badge.
You loved that stuffed dog, so it shocked me that it took you so long to adopt a dog as an adult. ”
“First of all, Potts was a Mrs.,” Bel corrected.
“Oh, right. Sorry. Your stuffed German Shepherd was a girl. Although Potts can go either way. Why did you even name her that?”
“There was a cartoon I used to watch on Saturday mornings with Dad about a Detective Potts,” Bel explained.
“I don’t know why I asked. That should’ve been obvious, and it further goes to illustrate my point that you’ve always aspired to be a detective with a dog.
That was your dream. That was your life goal.
You liked books, and animals, and the police.
You watched crime shows and pet videos, and you read.
We were all busy playing with our baby dolls and planning our future weddings, and you marched around the house with Potts writing us tickets. You spent too much time with Dad.”
“I still have Potts,” Bel said, her eyes drifting to the well-loved animal perched on the bookshelf bearing her favorite novels. “She used to sit on my dresser, but I moved her to my new library. And I have the authority to write you real tickets now.”
“Plus your real dog, who I suspect is plastered to your chest,” Briar said, and Bel pulled the phone away from her ear and snapped a selfie to send her sister, proving her prediction right.
“The life you dreamed of is the life you have,” her sister continued.
“You never mentioned kids, but you became the dog mom and detective. You sometimes talked about men. Not often, but when you did, you always referenced Mom and Dad’s relationship.
You didn’t love dating, but I knew you secretly craved a deep soul connection. ”
“If it was so secret, how did you know?”
“I raised you, remember? I used to know you better than anyone. Now I suspect that honor belongs to Eamon.”
“No, Cerberus,” Bel corrected.
“Obviously,” her sister laughed. “I meant out of us mere mortal humans.”
Bel stifled a laugh. Mortal human, her boyfriend was not.
“What I’m saying is that young Isobel Emerson would be so in love with the woman she grew into.
Seems to me, you’ve got the life you wanted.
If kids are that important to you, don’t let Eamon hold you back, but people talk about the future they want.
You certainly did, and children never once made the Bel list.”
“I didn’t realize I’d never mentioned them.”
“You rarely mentioned relationships and marriage either, but you hinted enough for me to know you were open to love. That you’re calling about children is confusing, though, since it’s news to me.”
“I didn’t talk about romance often because I hated dating.
It felt like a waste of time. I didn’t think love was in the cards for me, but then Eamon came along.
I tried not to love him. I really did. He was a suspect in my first case in Bajka, so not exactly the man people would expect me to fall for, but he loves me like Dad loved Mom.
There were no bad dates or emotional games.
He just continued to show up for me until I realized how much I loved him. ”
“So maybe you don’t need kids and are simply freaking out because your safety net is gone. You didn’t want kids, but you could change your mind. With Eamon, you can’t, and you’re afraid of losing the security blanket.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Think about it. Are you afraid of missing out on a family or of losing the option? They are vastly different fears, and one will end your relationship while the other is merely a growing pain. You just need to figure out what you want.”
“What I want. That’s always the hardest secret to uncover.”
“It is, but it’ll be okay, I promise. No matter what you decide, it’ll be okay. We’re here for you, heartbreak or wedding bells alike.”
“I hope it’s not the former,” Bel said.
“Same. With how rich Eamon is, your wedding would be insane.”
“It’s like you don’t even know me. In what world would I ever have a massive wedding?”
“I do know you,” Briar laughed. “It would be an intimate destination wedding, probably on a private, tropical island with champagne and celebrity chefs flown in to cater.”
“Or, it would be at the Estate in the rose garden.”
“Sometimes I wonder if you even love me. How could you deny me such a fancy vacation?”
“How about I decide if I want to get married first?”
“Fair. Did this conversation help at all?” her sister asked.
Bel grunted a noncommittal sound. This decision could alter the future of her relationship. It wasn’t one she would make after a single midnight phone call.
“Well, will it at least help you sleep?” Briar asked. “Because I have to get up early with the boys.”
“Right, sorry.” Bel grimaced. Despite being the oldest Emerson sibling, Briar had some of the youngest children in the family, meaning their late-night calls were a thing of the past.
The sisters said their goodbyes, and after letting Cerberus out into the garden for a moonlit potty break, the duo climbed the stairs and slipped back into the master bedroom.
Bel instantly could tell that Eamon was awake.
He didn’t lift his head or speak, but she felt him watching her in the darkness.
Had he heard her entire conversation? She prayed he’d ignored his hearing to grant her some privacy, and he thankfully said nothing as she crawled into bed.
He didn’t touch her as she slid below the sheets, either.
He just stared at the ceiling, and Bel wondered if he was waiting for her to end things.
Was he worried they were over? She wanted to tell him they weren’t, but that was a lie—at least for now.
All five of her older sisters had children.
Did she really want to be the only Emerson girl without kids?
She’d had such a beautiful family growing up.
She loved having sisters constantly surrounding her.
Were her potential future babies something she was willing to bury?
She didn’t have an answer for him. As much as she wanted to lie beside this man for the rest of her life, could she really live in this empty mansion without the pitter-patter of tiny feet?
As if he heard her, Cerberus charged across the floor and launched himself onto the bed, his toenails clicking on the hardwood with enough echo to make up for the absence of miniature human heels.
Eamon grunted as the dog landed squarely on his chest and curled against the man who was quickly becoming his dad.
The pitbull would be destroyed if the couple split.
Was he—and the countless rescues they would undoubtedly adopt—the only child they needed?
The three of them were happy. Could they be happy like this forever?
As if hearing her mind overthink, Eamon finally extricated his arm from under the dog and extended it across the pillows. He didn’t touch her, but it was an invitation. He wanted her to stay. For the night. For forever. But she had to make a choice. He wouldn’t force her.
So Bel curled against his side, and his body immediately relaxed at her acceptance. She wasn’t promising forever, but at least for tonight, Beauty and her two beasts were still an odd family.