Page 93 of Resisting Isaac

I smile. “That sounds nice. Any ideas? Other than me moving to Montana?”

“Between the secret hookup, the surprise baby, and both of us pretending we hadn’t met during training camp, it might be time to get real about what we want.” He shrugs. “I say we just lay it out there. Tell me what you want.”

My voice cracks. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. If what we want is messy.”

“Life is messy, baby.” He keeps rubbing my foot, doesn’t rush me at all.

“I grew up needing everything,” I admit quietly. “We didn’t have money. Or time. Or space. We lived crammed into a tiny apartment over my aunt’s garage. My parents worked non-stop. I rarely saw them. Unless I was working alongside them before and after school. My dad’s health was always an issue. I didn’t dream about a white picket fence, Isaac. I dreamed about surviving.”

He nods, slow and patient.

“And now, I finally have something that’s mine. A career I love, that I’m proud of. I get to act out beautiful stories for a living. I have a voice. That’s my dream. And I don’t want to lose that. And I don’t want my child to grow up wondering if the power will be on or if there will be food to eat.”

“You won’t. He or she won’t. I would never let that happen.”

“It’s not that simple,” I tell him. “Being a single mom is like?—”

“A full-time job that never ends, but without the pay,” he finishes for me. “I know. I’ve known some single moms. Brooklyn Harris raises her two younger siblings alone. I get that it will be a lot on you, Elena. I just want you to know it’s notallon you.”

He leans forward slightly, both hands on my legs now.

“In a perfect world,” he says, voice low and steady, “if you could have whatever you wanted for your future, for our child’s future, what would you want?”

My lips part. Nothing comes out.

Because the truth is…it’sthis.

A home base. A safe place to always come back to.

A man who rubs my feet and doesn’t expect me to shrink to fit beside him. Or behind him.

A life that lets me be both—an actress and a mom. A chaser of dreams and of children.

“I always wanted a family,” I finally whisper. “One like yours. Full of support and warmth and…boundaries. One where my culture is honored but not used against me. Where I can keep acting, and still be enough. For everyone.”

Isaac exhales like I just handed him the world.

“My family might need to work on the boundaries part. But you’re enough,” he says. “You always have been.”

I look away so I don’t cry.

“I need to go home. Talk to my parents. Tell them about the baby.”

He nods. “Okay. Now?”

“Not right this second.” I smile at his genuine acceptance. “I thought I’d maybe talk to Ivy first. Figure out how this will affect the production schedule. Then ask for a few days off to go home.”

“You want me to come with you? To talk to Ivy and to tell your family?”

Yes.

No.

Maybe.

I inhale as much mountain air as my lungs will hold. “I think it’s something I need to do on my own. But I really appreciate that you’re willing to be there. In both cases.”

He nods but his brow is furrowed. “I don’t love the idea of you facing the firing squad alone, Elena.”