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I shrug. “He seemed annoyed that Leon was bringing it up first, but it was obvious this was already discussed and decided prior to the brunch. In fact, it was probably the only reason for the brunch which is why he didn’t tell me that the Forbeses were coming.” He freaking knew I would never go. Not without another buffer like Mom.
“Well, you’re not marrying him,” Oliver exclaims again for the fourth time. He peers at me. “Did you tell them you’re with me?”
Leo glances away. “No, I doubt they would care,” I explain honestly. “They’d probably tell me to have my fun now because when it becomes official, I’ll have to drop everything.”
“You should call your mom,” Oliver suggests.
I know where he’s going with this. Mom loves Oliver. She’s been dying for us to get together for obvious reasons. However, she won’t stand in the way of something my father has decided. She can’t. And she certainly won’t be bothered by it if the Forbeses are involved.
Oliver just looks at me, frowning when I don’t say anything. “Well, they can’t marry you off if you’re already married.” He takes out his phone and starts tapping the screen.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling James.”
“For what?” I question, wondering what his main butler has to do with us getting married. Something he hasn’t even asked yet.
“I’m telling him one of the servants needs to get ordained online. You crazy Americans have that, right? They’ll marry us by tonight.”
I tilt my head at him, but he ignores me as he puts the phone to his ear. Walking over, I take it out of his hand just as his butler’s voice rings out of the speaker and disconnect the call. “You’re not going to get one of your servants to marry us, Oliver. That’s crazy.”
“Crazier than you having to marry the man I kidnapped?”
“Would you calm the fuck down?” Leo finally states. “She’s not marrying anybody. I told her she should talk to her father.”
“Oh, because he’s been so helpful thus far?” Oliver retaliates.
“You know,” I start. I’ve been forced to think about this because of Leon’s remarks. “I don’t think I want kids.”
“Fine,” Oliver says. “Fuck kids. We’ll have horses or something.”
“Jesus, would you just let her talk?” Leo’s hands are in fists as he stares at Oliver freaking the fuck out.
Unexpectedly, Oliver takes a few deep breaths, doing as Leo says.
Now that I can think again, I feel bad for saying what I just did. Not that it’s not true, but in my world, that’s what women do. They’re there to carry on the name—one that’s not even theirs. Now that it’s just me, if I refuse to have kids, there goes our Astor line. It all rests with me.
“Hey,” Leo states, striding forward as my breaths quicken. He stops in front of me, grabbing my chin and making me look him in the eyes. “Relax. You don’t need to decide your future right now.”
“If I don’t have kids—”
“Who cares,” he interrupts. “Kids aren’t your worth.”
“It’s just me now.” My throat catches as I stare into his eyes. Leo would know better than most how I’m feeling.
Shaking his head, he puts more pressure on his grip, making me focus back on him, on the present. “They don’t know what they’re talking about, Eden. You decide your future. You don’t have the weight of anything on your shoulders. Don’t let them dump their shit on you. If you don’t want to carry on the line, don’t.”
His words settle over me like a hug. I’ve never had to worry about this stuff before. Delilah was going to have kids. The burden of carrying on at least someone who had Astor in their blood would’ve fallen on her. My parents were already extremely upset they didn’t have a boy—my father most of all. That’s why he always let Dee do what she wanted. She was his boy, and she was going to do everything to make him happy, but now he’s stuck with me. “No wonder he wants me to marry Keegan.”
“Can we stop talking about you marrying Keegan?” Oliver grouses.
Leo’s dark gaze slices through me. “You can’t live your life for someone else.”
I know that. That was always my mantra, but it meant something different when Delilah was going to do all that stuff I didn’t.
Does it make me sad that there won’t be any more Astors? Maybe. Does it make me sad to think thelinewill just end? Yeah. Yeah, it does.
“Fuck me. I need a drink.” I didn’t think I’d have such an existential crisis in my early twenties.