Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 127484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
I forced myself back into the present, with Knox, where he was waiting not so patiently for my response. His energy had gone even tenser, eyes clouding over with a sharpness I knew he used as a defense.
“No,” I whispered. “No, I do not want to be a mother.” I drew in a long breath after releasing the words that were so shameful and frowned upon even in our post-feminist society—if such a concept ever truly existed.
Who was a woman who didn’t want children? There must’ve been something wrong with her. She must’ve been cold, selfish, damaged. Or simply not smart enough to know her own mind.
The few women I had told this secret to early on in my twenties had rolled their eyes, patted my arm patronizingly and assured me I’d change my mind. As if my own mind wasn’t mine. Since then, I hadn’t spoken of my plans not to have them, had tightly smiled whenever people raised the subject.
My eyes fixed on Knox. “Even before the cancer, I knew that’s not what I wanted. I’m sure it has a whole bunch to do with the trauma I grew up with, my own mommy issues, but whatever the crux of it is, that’s not what I want. Not who I want to be. I want to be the eccentric aunt to Daisy’s brood.”
I thought good naturedly about my sister who, thankfully, was safe and to her eternal knowledge that she’d be the mother to break generational curses and heal generational wounds. If there was anyone who could do it, it was her.
“I love my job,” I continued. “I get to be around the best of children and fill that void inside of me that nature created. And I also get to be around the worst of them, to remind me that I don’t have the tools to navigate that on a full-time, never-ending basis.”
I waited. For him to assure me I’d change my mind or to reject me for being horrifyingly unfeminine and wrong for not wanting to be a mother. Even if he was sure about not wanting children. Men had a funny way of doing things. They wanted women with a backbone, but they wanted to be able to bend it. Didn’t want children but wanted their partner to have that nurturing instinct. Without it, she was damaged.
Though I thought better of Knox, knew better of Knox, the concrete admission sent a thread of fear through me.
“Good,” was all Knox said.
Then he turned around to make dinner.
“Good?” I stepped forward, unable to let sleeping dogs lie. I had to pick and pull, see if there were any loose threads that I could tug on, that would unravel us.
He nodded, tipping pasta into boiling water before reaching for a tin of fish.
I put my hand on his wrist. “There needs to be more context as to the question and the response. Do you want children?”
He looked at me blankly for a moment then let out a bark of cold laughter. “No,” he said soberly. “Absolutely not.” His face screamed of shame I wished I could scoop right out of him.
“I’m not … capable,” he stared down at the boiling water. “I’m barely capable of loving you in a way that won’t destroy you wholly.” I watched his knuckles whiten as he gripped the tin he was holding.
It didn’t surprise me, his stance on children. I’d have been knocked over by a feather had he said he wanted a family. But I felt relieved, nonetheless. Not relieved about the trauma he endured that made him believe he was not worthy to be a father, but that we would not be separated over such conflicting needs.
“What would you have done,” I asked, stroking his hand. “If I had said yes, that I wanted a baby?”
“I would’ve gotten you a baby,” he replied without pause.
I swallowed at the answer, the devotion with which he spoke. As if I just had to request anything in the world and he’d procure it for me, human beings included. “And where would you be in this equation?”
His gaze shuttered. “Close,” he murmured. “Close enough to watch you both, to keep you safe. Ensure that your lives are long and happy. But you’d never lay eyes on me again.”
My body revolted against the promise in his tone, his certainty.
“You’d l-leave m-me?” I pulled my hand back. Or attempted to, at least.
“I’d never leave you.” He snatched hold of my wrist again. “I’d give you everything you deserved and ensure you kept it.”
I looked over his shoulder as I digested this. “What if I met another man?” It was unfair, cruel to us both to keep the hypothetical going, but I was a woman. I couldn’t help but live in the imagined future.
Knox tightened his hold on me.