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That has to be the problem. She’s been pulling away from me ever since. It makes me wish I could turn back time and give her fair warning about what I was planning.
But I’d thought I had the matter well in hand, and that she might even enjoy the surprise. Clearly, I was wrong, and I’m apparently just as clueless as I’ve always been.
It’s frustrating as hell.
And…upsetting.
I don’t want Elaina to pull away from me. Our connection may be temporary, but I want it to last a hell of a lot longer than a week or two.
She takes a deep breath, as if she’s steeling herself, and I find myself doing the same. “I’ve just been thinking about mybusiness plans. If I’m going to launch something new, I should probably do itbeforeI get pregnant, and get things off the ground before life gets too crazy. If I don’t, who knows when I’ll have the time. Babies aren’t something that get easier after a month or two, you know.”
It’s a reasonable explanation.
Almosttooreasonable. Like she practiced that speech in front of a mirror until she was sure she’d nail the delivery. Elaina isn’t usually one for rehearsed speeches. She’s spontaneous, ruthlessly authentic. It’s one of the things I like best about her.
But she has a point.
I think…
“I actuallydon’tknow,” I confess. “But I can imagine the first year or two of motherhood are fairly labor intensive.”
“Yeah, they are,” she says. “And year three doesn’t get any easier. That’s when potty training starts, which is a whole other level of intense.”
I blink. “They don’t learn to use the toilet until they’re three? Are you sure?”
She smiles, one of her real ones, as she says, “Yes, I’m sure. You really have no clue about kids, do you?”
I lift a shoulder as I skewer another bite of grilled prawn. “No, I don’t. It isn’t one of my areas of expertise.”
“It’s not really mine, either,” she says. “But I have older friends with kids back home. They’ve shared horror stories about how hard it is to potty train their kids, especially the boys.”
“Boys are always more difficult, aren’t we?”
She laughs, seeming more like herself with every passing moment. Maybe this reallyisthe thing that’s been bothering her…
“Yeah, you are,” she says, forking another bite of fish. “But you’re worth it.” She winks. “Sometimes.”
I smile. “I appreciate that. And I think waiting a month or two is fine.”
“Yeah? You’re not upset?” she asks, the vulnerability in her gaze tugging at something deep in my chest.
“No, I’m not,” I say. “And I…” I clear my throat and take a beat, wanting to make sure I get this right. “I’ve been thinking, too. In light of the way things have developed… And after seeing my mother so happy yesterday, just to see us engaged…” I clear my throat again. “I’m open to amending the contract to remove the pregnancy clause. We can void it entirely, if you’d like. I would have suggested it earlier, but I didn’t want you to think I was trying to back out on my part of the deal. If we make a child together, I am still fully committed to financially supporting you both. I would never want you, or your baby, to want for anything.”
She bites her lip, sadness flashing behind her eyes.
“Was that the wrong thing to say?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No, it was a lovely thing to say, I just…” She shakes her head as she stabs another bite of fish but makes no move to bring it to her lips. “It’s just the ‘your’ baby part. It wouldn’t just bemine, Hunter. It would beours. And every time I looked at our son or daughter moving forward, I would think of you. Every day for the rest of my life.”
“And that isn’t something you want,” I say, my throat going tight, making further devotion to my meal impossible. “Being reminded of me would make you miserable.”
Elaina looks up, her expression as sober as I’ve ever seen it. “No, Hunter. It would make me miss you. Because I…” She trails off, swallowing with obvious effort before she adds, “I like you. I…more than like you.”
“I more than like you, too,” I say softly, reaching for her hand. She lets me take it, and I give her fingers a gentle squeeze.“I’m sorry I can’t be the man you need. Or want the same things you want. If I could change, I would. But…”
“But you can’t,” she finishes softly, returning the squeeze. “I get it. I can’t change, either. Neither of us is wrong or bad, we’re just not on the same page.” Her lips curve in a determined smile. “Which is another reason I think we should pump the brakes. Why rush to the end of this? The longer it takes to make a baby, the longer it takes for the baby to be born, and the more time we get to spend together having fantastic sex.”
I smile. It feels a little sad on my face, but I’m as determined as she is to put this conversation behind us. “The sexisfantastic. But I hate condoms. With a fiery passion. I’m not looking forward to rolling one on again.”