Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
He blew out a long breath when he saw the situation he was walking into, then walked to me and pulled Mom out of my arms.
My shirt was soaked, and though I felt horrible about all of this, the way she sniffled and turned into Dad’s arms, wailing that she’d failed us, had a smile gracing my lips.
The first one for that entire day.
“Mom,” I said softly. “Cut yourself some slack. You’ve literally done nothing wrong other than wanting us in your life. I think that’s something I can’t complain about, especially since I’ve had a great life.”
Mom gave me a watery smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Have you told her yet?” she asked.
Her being Zip.
“No,” I grumbled.
“You need to,” she said. “She deserves to know.”
She did.
But also…
“I’ll talk to her in a minute.”
She nodded.
Leaving her in my dad’s capable hands, I walked to the car, my thoughts on all the shit that was going down, and how someone like Zip didn’t need any more drama than she already had.
She had enough to deal with.
And that was the attitude I had when I walked through the door.
Trying to keep things light, I teased her as I unlocked the door.
“How do you feel about kids?” I joked when I closed the door behind me.
Sure, this wasn’t really something I should be making light of.
But at this point, it was either I joke about the kids thing, or I joke about how I might or might not be dying of cancer and how my mom had cancer, and she’d just pretty much broken apart in my arms.
“I don’t want any kids.”
Her words struck a pang throughout my heart.
“What?” I asked, confused.
“I don’t want any kids,” she reiterated. “I don’t even like them.”
I shook my head, hoping to clear it.
Did she really just say what I thought she said?
“But you spend so much time with the twins,” I said. “And Linny. Like, literally all the time.”
She shrugged, and that’s when a thought struck me.
She didn’t want kids.
But before all of this happened, I had.
I’d wanted kids.
I’d always wanted them.
But now, with everything that’d happened… that was going to happen. This was the perfect opportunity.
“There are too many possible worst-case scenarios when it comes to kids,” she continued.
I sat down heavily on the couch, sick with what I was about to do.
But I did it anyway.
I said the words, even though it about killed me to do it.
“Zip,” I said softly, “I don’t think that I can move any further with this relationship if you don’t want kids.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Kids. They’re important to me,” I said. “I want like five of them. More if possible. It’s all I ever wanted. A wife and all these kids so I can share my life with them, my legacy. So, I won’t ever be alone again.”
And I had to find this person now, because if I waited too much longer, I might never have kids.
She opened her mouth, then closed it, her eyes wide and wild.
“Can you…” She hesitated. “Can you give me time to think about it?”
No.
No, I couldn’t.
“Babe,” I said quietly, feeling something inside of me break. “If you intrinsically don’t want kids, which is what it sounds like, then me giving you time isn’t going to change your stance on it.”
That, and maybe making her leave me would be a good thing. If this all didn’t work out, if my battle with cancer didn’t go well, then I wouldn’t be leaving anybody behind.
“And something happened today…” I then went on to explain about the baby.
I didn’t leave that part unfinished, though. I told her everything, even more about how the kid ‘might’ be mine.
Though I didn’t share with her the certainty that the baby wasn’t.
“And let’s be honest… you just said you don’t want kids. You were very final with that comment,” I said. “I can’t do this with you if we both want different things out of life.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it, lost for words.
I started feeling absolutely horrible about what I was doing.
I should take it back.
I should tell her what I was really scared about…
But my lips stayed glued shut.
I looked at her with a blank expression as she processed my words.
“So we’re breaking up?” she asked on a whisper.
I shrugged. “We were never together, were we?” I asked.
Her eyes went sad, and then she nodded. “I guess you’re right.”
Then she left, and I wondered if the decision might kill me before the cancer did.
With the way my heart was feeling right then, it very well might.
She was gone for like ten minutes when I got the phone call from her.
“I want to talk about this,” she said softly. “I think that maybe…”
I could hear the indecision in her voice.
Maybe she did really want kids.
Maybe the reason she said she didn’t want them was because of the fact that her world had been absolutely terrible.