Page 63 of Clear Shot

“But…” Now comes the hard part. “There are things… major things… we don’t agree on.”

“Kids.”

“Yes.”

“You want them.”

“Very much.” I pause. “Not now! Not for at least a few years. I want to work on my career, travel, maybe go back to school…and now that we’re talking about staying together, take time to fall in love with my husband. All of those things are true.”

“I’ve been thinking about that stuff too.” He shifts a little onto his side so he can look into my eyes. “My genetics are fucked up, Hana. I mean, addiction, alcoholism, abuse, mental health. I know we’ve touched on my depression but it’s not a little thing—without medication, I can barely function. Even with the meds, some days are hard. I’ve had to go through years of therapy to learn coping mechanisms for when the dark days come.”

“Those things don’t scare me,” I whisper, pushing his dark hair out of his eyes.

“For us, as a couple, no, they’re not that scary. I’m pretty high functioning on meds and I’m aware when my moods turn dark. I don’t get violent or anything—mostly I just shut down. It takes a day or two to snap out of it, but I can manage it. It’s the idea of passing all that shit down to my children that scares me. And then, what if my depression impacts the kids too. Like, they see how messed up I am sometimes, that I’m not engaged or I’m grumpy or whatever. I don’t know how good of a dad I’ll be. Those are the reasons I got the vasectomy at twenty-four. I don’t want my bloodline to continue. Not with me.”

I sigh softly because I understand where he’s coming from but it frustrates me.

“I understand that. Truly. But depression isn’t necessarily hereditary, is it?”

“In the research I’ve done, it’s about fifty percent based on genetics and the rest is a crap shoot. But those are pretty high odds if we’re talking about my future kids.”

“So you don’t want them. Ever. For any reason.”

He shakes his head. “No. But…” He takes a breath. “If it’s important to you, I would consider adoption. Fostering. Maybeeven a sperm donor if you wanted kids that are genetically yours.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t expecting options, and I’m suddenly overcome with emotion.

But in a good way.

He’s willing to compromise.

He really wants to make this work—as much as I do.

Chapter 22

Aiden

“Isthat a good oh or a bad oh?” I ask when she’s been quiet a beat too long.

“It’s an amazed oh,” she admits. “I didn’t… I thought you were going to draw a hard line and give me an ultimatum.”

“Fuck, baby.” I frown. “How can I genuinely care about someone and do that? There is a line I don’t want to cross, but there has to be compromise in a relationship. Especially in a relationship where both people want to make it work.”

“So… you want this marriage to be… real?”

“I do.” I can’t believe I’m saying those words but it’s the truth.

“Are you sure?” Her face is filled with wonder and worry and a smidge of doubt, and all I want is to make all that negativity go away.

“Positive.” I cup her face with one hand. “Like you said, there’s been something there since we met. There was just a lot going on, with your job in Philly, my relationship with yourbrother, all the little details that made it complicated. But now we’re married. It’s done. It’s legal. It doesn’t get any simpler than that.”

She crashes her mouth to mine, and I pull her astride me.

Even with a layer of clothes separating us there’s no mistaking the heat. The need. The electricity crackling between us.

I’m about to make love to my wife—again.

For the first time.