“Hey. Sorry we are late,” Mia says, sitting in front of us next to Corrine and Ava. “What were you guys talking about?”
“Kids,” Gabe says, putting his hand on my chair and stretching out his arm. “Crystal doesn’t want kids.”
I wait for the onslaught of opinions. “Well, it’s not for everyone,” Emma says. “I didn’t want them either, but then well, one slipped by.” She smiles.
“I would die,” I say, grabbing my water and drinking it. Thankfully, Alan and Olivia arrive with Gabe’s parents right behind them. The rest of the meal goes smoothly, and Gabe stays quiet most of the night, not really part of any conversation. When we get into the truck later that night, he looks over at me.
“What’s wrong with you?” I look over at him.
“Nothing, just thinking,” he says. “You coming over or going home?” he asks, and I know he’s pissed about something because he never gives me the option.
“Home please,” I say, not bothering with the conversation. My heart beats fast in my chest as we get closer and closer to my house. I slam the truck door as soon as we pull up to the house, going up the steps with my head down.
“You really mean it, don’t you?” Gabe yells from beside the truck. “You really don’t want children?”
I inhale a big breath and gear my heart up for battle.
Turning around, I take him in, his shirt rolled up at the wrists, his dark slacks perfect. What I would give for just one more kiss. But I knew this day would come, knew in my heart I would have to say goodbye to him one day. I just didn’t think today would be the day. I walk down one step. “I really, really don’t want children.”
He puts his hands in his pockets. “There must be a reason,” he says, looking up at the sky. “There must be.”
“There is nothing,” I say, my voice raising just a little, but enough for him to stop. “I don’t want kids; I’ve never wanted kids.” Lies, all fucking lies. From when I was five years old and my mother bought my first baby, I’ve wanted to be a mother.
“But,” he says, looking at me, “I do.” Two words shatter me, two words I wish I could give him.
“Then go have them.” I raise my hand to him. “No one is stopping you.”
“You!” he yells out so loud I hear the front door open behind me, and Hailey steps out.
“Is everything okay?” she asks as I say yes and Gabe says no.
“You are the one stopping me because I love you,” he says, not moving from his side of the truck. “I’m in love with your cousin, so in love with her that I can’t put it into words, but …”
I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” I say, and his head snaps back. “I’m sorry that you feel that way. I’m sorry that it has come to this.”
“You’re sorry?” he roars. “You’re fucking sorry. For what?”
“Gabe,” Hailey says, coming to stand next to me, holding my hand. “Maybe now isn’t the right time.”
“It’s time,” I whisper to her. “It went on too long.”
“It went on too long? What the fuck are you talking about? Did we have an expiration date that I didn’t know about? For fuck’s sake, I just told you I love you, and all you can say is you’re sorry. You’re fucking sorry.” He shakes his head. “I want to have kids with you; I want to have a future with you; I want it all with you.”
“You can’t have it,” I tell him as a tear rolls out the corner of my eye.
“Because you won’t let me. You won’t let us,” he yells at the top of his lungs.
“I’m infertile,” I say the two other words that shattered me when I was nineteen. I say them out loud to the two people I love more than I love myself. The two people I would give my life for. My cousin squeezes my hand and gasps while Gabe just looks at me, shock in his eyes. “I was told at nineteen that I was infertile. I would never have children. My body was nineteen, but my insides were not.” I let the tears fall, finally unleashing it. “So no, I can’t give you what you dream; I can’t even give myself what I dream because it’s impossible. So you can stand there and tell me that you love me, you can stand there now and tell me it’s going to be okay, but it’s not. It will never be okay.” I let go of Hailey’s hand and turn to go up the step, looking back at the man I love. I would do anything to make his dreams come true, but I’m not that woman. “So that is why I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want. I’m sorry that no matter how many times I cried those tears, nothing in my body has changed. I’m sorry that no matter how much I prayed, no matter how much I begged God to just give me a chance, to just let me prove how good of a mother I can be, he didn’t listen,” I say, watching him and taking in his face. I turn around. “Goodbye, Gabe,” I say, walking into the house and going to the couch, my body numb.