Dear Bridget, I Want You - Page 77

“You tricked me!” I laughed.

“Sweetheart, I’d shave my damn head just to get this smile for one minute.” He traced my bottom lip with his pointer finger. “I’ve missed it.”

I took a deep breath. “I know. I’m sorry. Why don’t we go sit in the living room? There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“If that’s code for you’re gonna unbutton your shirt and let me lick a nipple, I’m in.”

I shoved him playfully before taking his hand and leading him to the couch.

Simon figured out that something was up when I let out a long breath and rubbed my palms.

He placed his hand on my knee. “Are you nervous about the test?”

“I am, but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

His expression turned serious. “Alright.”

It took almost a full minute for me to gather my thoughts.

“I feel a little embarrassed to be bringing this up to you now, and I’m certainly not looking to freak you out…”

“The only thing freaking me out is not knowing what in the bloody hell is bothering you if it’s not the DNA test. Whatever it is, say it.”

“I’m going on thirty-five…”

“Total MILF, yes. I’m aware of your age.”

“What I mean by that is…I’m really getting to a point where it’s going to be more and more difficult to conceive with each year that passes. I’m worried that I won’t be able to give you a child of your own, if that’s something you want.”

“This is what’s been on your mind?”

“Yes. Well, it’s something I should’ve given more thought to earlier, but it wasn’t until my conversation with Gina that I was really reminded of the struggle Ben and I had trying to have a baby. I have polycystic ovary syndrome. That means that my hormones are out of balance. Add in the factor of my age now compared to then and—”

“Whoa!” He interrupted. “This is all too much for you to be worrying about right now on top of everything else.”

“I know. I can’t help it. It’s a serious concern. It feels so premature even bringing this up to you, but I feel like you need to figure out if you’d ever want a baby of your own. Because I may not have much time left to give you one—that is, if I’m even able to give you one at all.”

Simon blinked several times in a row and seemed to be absorbing my words. “Wow. Alright. I’m going to be honest here. For many years, I was convinced that I didn’t ever want to bear the responsibility of a child. Part of that had to do with my maturity level at the time and an even bigger part had to do with guilt feelings over Blake—fears of inadequacy, things like that.”

Interrupting him, I said, “I feel awful bringing this up now. I know it’s too soon to even be thinking about this.”

“Why are you feeling awful? I always expect you to tell me exactly what’s on your mind. We need to always be honest with each other.”

“I don’t expect you to make any decision now or anything. But I do want you to ponder it. Because if a baby is something you do want, I can’t be sure it will happen, and we don’t have forever to try.”

“Okay…I’ll think about it. Give me a few.”

“A few months?”

“No, a few seconds.” He closed his eyes tightly before his eyes flashed open. “Okay, I’ve thought about it.”

“You have?”

“And my conclusion is that I don’t need to think about it. Because in my heart, I know that I would love to have a baby with you. But not if it’s going to cause you stress and anxiety. Do I want it? Yes. Because I love you, and I would love to experience that with you. And of course, it’s crossed my mind before, Bridget—often, actually. So…as long as it’s not putting you in any danger, I would be open to whatever you want. But I’m going to make it very clear that I don’t need a child of my own blood to feel fulfilled. So if it doesn’t happen, that’s fine, too.”

“I think you say that now, because you’re still young. But you’ll regret it if you don’t. You’re such a beautiful man. I couldn’t imagine you not procreating.”

“Let me ask you this. Do you want another child? That’s just as important as whether I want one. I wouldn’t be the person carrying it, you know.”

I didn’t have to think about the answer to that question. “Yes. I do. I just never thought that would be possible for me again.”

Simon pulled me into him, caressing my hair as I rested my head on his chest. He spoke softly. “This entire year has felt like fate to me—the way we met, how I ended up here of all places in the world. Why not leave this up to fate, too? Let’s not worry about it so much that it causes stress but rather take the attitude that if it happens, it happens.”

Tags: Penelope Ward, Vi Keeland Erotic
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