Chapter Eleven
After weeks of reading research and doing still more investigation on the downlow, I met with the oncofertility specialist and word-vomited my long list of questions to her. She patiently answered each one, mostly to my satisfaction.
And then I took some long walks and did a lot of thinking.
Then one day, weeks later, I chose to work from home in the morning and take the afternoon off, since it was her last day off for the next ten days. We’d successfully carved some time to be present and be together. No distractions. Just each other and the raw beauty of nature.
I even left my phone at home when we walked to the beach.
Yeah, a serious sign that Adam Drake meant business. Or rather not business, but a pivotal moment in my private life—and in our relationship.
It felt silly, staging things, but then I hadn’t had a chance to plan the marriage proposal—at least the second time, the time that really counted.
But this, this I could make special.
We had a picnic on the sand and then took a long walk. As it was late fall, the air and the water were too chilly for swimming.
We stood overlooking the Newport Harbor Jetty right at the end of the Balboa Peninsula, less than a 2-mile walk from our house on Bay Island. Fishermen stood atop the rocks, casting their poles overhead into the sea below and the bell on the large buoy rang every so often, warning of rough seas coming in. Sea lions barked all around us from the rocks and from their perch atop the buoy. Sailboats and fishing boats were heading into the entrance channel to the back bay for the night.
I laced my fingers around hers and felt that same, satisfying twinge in my chest when she responded by tightening her hold on my hand. She leaned back, against my chest and rested her head against my shoulder.
I cleared my throat to speak after nearly a half hour of enjoying each other’s company in silence as we’d walked along the beach to get here. “Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful sunset. Just enough clouds in the sky to make some fireworks with the light but not too many to block it.”
She glanced up at me, smiling cheekily. “Wow, my husband the sunset aficionado...and he’s kept it hidden from me all these years. A secret romantic.”
I shrugged self-consciously. “Romantic? I wouldn’t go that far.”
She laughed, bumping her shoulder against me. “I’m teasing, silly. Didn’t mean to insult you. But you sounded almost poetic describing it.”
I laughed. “Maybe I just spent too much time around my cousin.”
She arched a brow. “Poetic? William? Well, I can see the artist angle. Any way you frame it, a southern California sunset rarely disappoints.”
I pulled her closer against me, wrapping my arms tightly around her waist. Together, we took in the play of rapidly changing light across the sky. She shivered slightly as the breeze rose up, like it always did, the minute the sun sank below the horizon leaving a wake of dazzling, glowing colors in the sky behind it—gold and pale blue shot through with streaks of neon orange and magenta. Emilia’s hair tickled my face, dancing on the breeze. I dipped my face and buried my nose in the perfumed cloud of glossy brown hair, inhaling deeply, savoring that vanilla scent. My eyes closed and my equilibrium drifted just slightly off center.
She nestled deeper against me with a sigh. “I love living so close the beach that we can just walk down the coast together to soak in the sunset.”
I huffed a laugh. “Given our schedules that’s, what, once in a blue moon?”
She sighed. “I wish that was just a joke, but I think the moon was a distinct shade of azure the last time we did this.”
My arms tightened. Kids played across the bay in the Pirate’s Cove on Little Corona beach, their laughter reaching us even as their parents’ voices called after them saying it was time to go home. Her head lolled back against my shoulder. Mmm...I loved how this felt.
“This feels so good,” she echoed my thoughts. “We should definitely do it more often. We’re fortunate that we live on the side of the country where the sun goes down over the ocean, rather than rising over it.”
“I guess we’d have to become early morning people if we were on the east coast. I do like living here, but I can’t help but wonder...”
My voice trailed off and I swallowed, realizing that I was on the brink of ringing a bell that couldn’t be unrung. Once the words were out of my mouth, I was committed. I couldn’t back out.
Fuck. This felt so bizarre.
“What do you wonder?” she finally asked, tilting her head to look up into my face after I’d let that dangle for too long.
I shrugged, then swallowed, ignoring that dread at the pit of my stomach. Here goes nothing. “I just wonder if this is the ideal location...to raise a family.”
Silence. The wind stirred her hair, tickling my cheeks. She went completely still in my arms. This time the long pause was on her side. I waited.
“You aren’t...you aren’t saying what I think you’re saying.”
I suppressed a smile. “And what’s that?”
“That you’re thinking about starting a family?”
I turned to look down into her face. Her eyes were wide, questioning, earnest. “And if I was?”
She let out a sharp breath—half anticipation, half frustration. “You already know I’m on board with that.”
“So then...let’s do it.”
The wind kicked up, almost blinding me with her hair, but she turned in my arms, looking up at me with near disbelief on her features. “You aren’t bullshitting me right now, are you?”
My hands clasped together right at the small of her back, hitching her against me. “If I was bullshitting, I’d be a worthless piece of shit, now wouldn’t I?”
She frowned. “What—how—I’m just so confused. Last summer you were so determined to put this off. And I like to think I wasn’t putting any pressure on you. Your decision feels abrupt. Have I been doing something to pressure you?”
I shook my head. “You haven’t been pressuring me, Emilia.”
“But—” she began in a voice thick with emotion. “You could always change your mind. That’s an option, you know. It’s not like I want to lock you into something.”
I met her gaze, stared deeply into her eyes, then reached up and smoothed that soft, soft skin. Her eyes fluttered closed and my thumb traced the hollow of her cheek. “Yes, that’s possible. But you know that I’m a stubborn fuck, and once I’ve made up my mind, it’s hard to change it again.”
She laughed, her eyes still closed. “Yes, that’s true. You are stubborn as fuck.”
“Hopefully not always in a bad way.”
She gently shook her head, and, to my amazement, a thin tear slipped out from under her closed eyelids. I brushed itaway, then kissed the cold, salty spot on her cheek where it had been.
Her eyes fluttered open, glistening with still more unshed tears. But it was the strange stew of emotions behind those beautiful eyes that held me captivated.
She cleared her throat despite the emotion. “But what about all your reservations and misgivings? You had solid reasons for—”
“I read the research. I read through the medical studies on that cloud folder you sent me. And just to make sure you weren’t cherry picking the studies that corroborated what you wanted, I went out and read some more—what I could understand of them, anyway. Then I met with an oncofertility specialist at UCLA.”
Her brows arched and she blinked. “Wow. You did do your homework.”
I grinned at her and tilted my head like, would she have expected anything else? More tears spilled onto her cheeks even as she laughed.
“I trust they said something to make you feel okay with this.”
I nodded. “According to the doctor, the risk is minimal enough that I can be comfortable with it. For a while, anyway.”
“Like how long?”
I shrugged. “Depends. If this drags out a while, I might ask you to go get another scan. And if we have to start talking about fertility drugs, well, that’s going to have to be a whole new conversation.”
She slowly nodded. “We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. Or we’ll explore some other way to have a family if we decide not to go that route.”
I tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. “I have research on all of that too.”
She burst out laughing. “I have not a doubt in the world, Adam Drake. I know you well enough to know that.”
More tears streamed down her face though she seemed calm and rational, as if the emotions and the logical halves of her were warring and neither knew which side was coming out on top.
She bit her lip and was quiet for a long moment. I nudged her, wordlessly urging her to voice the thought at the tip of her tongue.
“And you aren’t scared anymore?” Her eyes widened, searching mine.
“I can’t say that, no. I’m actually terrified. But I want you to be happy.”
Her brows knit. “You can’t agree to have a baby just to make me happy. You have to want it, too.”
I smoothed the pad of my thumb over her lip. “I do want it. I can’t promise that my controlling tendencies won’t kick in sometimes. It’s the way I handle fear of the unknown. And this is a huge motherfucking unknown for me. But I trust you. And I want it, too.”
In the face of her obvious joy, my terror was muted, but not gone. It still sat there, like a bugaboo, in the back of my psyche. Watching. Always watching.
I ignored it, swallowed, and summoned my courage.
“Let’s do this, Emilia. Let’s make a baby.”