Queen Move
“Seven weeks along.”
I see the devastation in her eyes before she can mask it, a flash quickly snuffed. “Okay. Thank you for letting me know.”
“Tru, we can still—”
“I can’t, Ezra,” she says on a harsh breath. “Before you ask me, I cannot.”
I reach for her, but she stands, steps out of my reach. I follow. She’s my magnet, and even when I try to resist, I’m drawn to her. This is supposed to be our second chance, and I’m not giving up on it, on us, without fighting for it.
“Can we at least talk about this?” I ask.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” She settles on the edge of another cream-colored settee.
“The hell…” I grind the words to dust between my teeth and try to compose myself. I’m used to being in control, but she makes me crazy. She drives me mad like a drug. A hallucinogen that convinces me we belong together, that we could work, that she could love me enough to stay. To fight.
“Don’t do this to us, Tru. Not again.”
She closes her eyes, and tears spill over her cheeks, breaking me inside. I’m hurting her, which kills me, but I can’t stop. I have to try.
“What do you need me to do?” I ask, swallowing a million pleas. “How do I prove to you this could work?”
“You have a family.”
“I want you!” It comes out loud, a declaration blaring through the deserted house. “I want…” My voice breaks, my pain in accord with hers. “I’m only half without you. You have to give me this chance.”
“I can’t.” Her mouth and her hands tremble. “Don’t ask me to watch another woman carry your child when I might never be able to.”
“I don’t care.” I take her face between my shaking hands. “I have Noah and I’ll have this baby and I have my students. I don’t need anything else but you. Do you think I care if you can’t have kids? I don’t.”
“It’s more than that.” She shakes her head, pulling free of my hands. “Having a baby together—it’s intimate. Something you and I may never experience. New feelings for Aiko could develop. Old ones could return. You never know how you’ll feel.”
“I do. I know exactly how I’ll feel. I fell in love with you when I was six years old and that love has only grown. It will only grow.”
A watery laugh cracks into a smile on her lips. “Ezra, don’t you get it? I’m jealous. I’m possessive of you. I’m angry that she gets this with you and I don’t. I can’t live with all of this and do what I need to do. I can’t do my job, can’t pursue my dreams, can’t focus on any of that when I’m so terribly focused on you. On whether you might love her again.”
“I won’t.”
“Or might fuck her.”
“I won’t. I’m moving out. I told you I would.”
She’s quiet at that, and hope starts rising in my chest again. She bites her lip and looks me square in the eye. “I got my period.”
“Okay. What does that mean?”
“I’ve been taking homeopathic remedies the last month or so to see if I could get my period back. It came back today.”
“You have a window, right?” The muscle in my jaw spasms. “Are you thinking of…of letting someone else…of trying to get pregnant?”
Without me?
“I don’t want to be pregnant right now,” she says, shaking her head. “I need to give Congressman Ruiz my focus and attention. We’re going to make history. I want to be at my best, and pregnant at thirty-seven and fighting menopause, I’m not sure I’ll feel my best. I might, but it’s not what I want to do. Not right now. I don’t want to turn my life upside down because my body decided to flip some reproductive hourglass.”
“I get that.”
“I want this on my terms.” She takes a deep breath. “I’ll consult with my doctor to see if my eggs are any good. If they are, I’ll freeze as many as I can and they’ll be my safety net. So if at the end of this campaign I decide I want to have a baby, I’ll have options.”
“And me? Us?”