“Have I—or Maddi—given you any indication that we want that?” I ask, getting angry.
She turns away from me.
“I don’t want to fight about this.”
“Then why are we even talking about it?” I ask.
Her shoulders slump. “Forget I said anything.”
Not likely.
“Talk to me, Courtney,” I demand.
“Maybe . . . maybe we are going too fast.” She keeps her eyes averted.
“Too fast?” I repeat, my hands clenching into fists at my sides.
“Yes. Maybe this is all happening too quickly.”
“What exactly are you trying to tell me?”
“I think we need some time.”
“Are you fucking with me right now? You’ve been in my life—and in Maddi’s life—for a couple of months now. All of a sudden you’re telling me that we are moving too fast and that we need some time?”
“There are things you don’t know,” she whispers.
Dread fills me as her eyes start to get wet.
“So fucking tell me!” I shout, feeling her slipping away from me.
Merida, who was lying next to the door, jumps up and barks.
“I can’t do this.” She tries to move past me, but I block her exit.
“Talk to me.”
“I need to leave.”
“Fucking talk to me.” Fear makes me roar out my demand.
“I can’t have kids! Okay?” she shouts. My whole frame goes rigid. “I will never be able to tell you how many kids I want—because I can’t have any.”
“Baby . . . ,” I whisper, taking another step toward her as I watch her face crumple.
“I’m broken.” She covers her face with her hands and sobs.
I close the distance between us and gather her in my arms, pulling her against my chest. She doesn’t fight me. Her arms circle my waist, and she holds on tight, crying against my chest.
I place my lips against her ear. “You’re not broken, Courtney.”
“I am. I’m broken. I should have told you sooner. I just . . . I fell in love with Maddi and you and the life we have been building, and I forgot. I forgot that this isn’t my life, that Maddi isn’t mine, and that I won’t ever be able to have a baby. I should have told you.” She cries harder, and my chest feels as if it’s cracking open.
“You’re perfect. So fucking perfect, baby.” I slide my hand up into her hair, cupping the back of her head.
“I should have told you,” she repeats once more. “I just haven’t thought about my infertility because, with Maddi in my life, it hasn’t been on my mind.”
“Baby . . .” My voice is thick with emotion.
The pain in her eyes is almost unbearable to witness. “I tried. I did everything in my power to get pregnant. Temps, fertility meds, and IVF, but it never happened.”
“Wha—” I start.
“The doctors call it ‘unexplained infertility.’ They don’t know why I can’t conceive. I just can’t.” She drops her forehead to my chest, her shoulders shaking with a fresh wave of tears.
I pick her up and carry her to the bedroom. I lie down with her in my arms. I listen to her cry for a long time. It kills me to hear it, but I do it, holding her tight.
With my lips to the top of her head, I close my eyes. Things start clicking into place in my mind. I hope I’m wrong, but I don’t think I am. When her tears die down, I place my fingers under her chin and lift her face so I can look into her eyes.
“Please tell me that fuckwad didn’t get his secretary pregnant while you were going through treatments,” I say. Her eyes fall closed in a silent answer. “That piece of shit. That motherfucking piece of shit,” I hiss out.
She shakes her head, then opens her eyes back up to look at me. “In the beginning, when I found out about his affair, I wished my last round of IVF had worked just so I would have someone to love, someone to love me unconditionally. How screwed up is that?”
“It’s not screwed up, baby. Not after how you grew up, and especially not after what you lost. You were married to a man who I’m sure you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with. I understand holding on to something that isn’t really there.”
“I’m glad it didn’t happen,” she says quietly. “I’m glad Tom and I didn’t have a child who would have had to grow up in the mess that was our relationship.”
Her words gut me. Maddi is growing up exactly like that, as much as I wish she didn’t have to. Even though I try to protect her, I know she still sees and feels more than she should.
“I should have told you before.”
Her words bring me out of my thoughts, and I focus on her once more. “I’m sorry, baby. So fucking sorry you had to go through that. But what you just told me changes nothing, Courtney.” I wrap my hands around the sides of her neck and keep hold of her gaze when she tries to lower her head. “If things go the way I think they are going to go, you’ll have a daughter in Maddi. If we want more kids, you and I will find a way to make that happen for us.”