His Father

“Why can’t you love me, Sarge?”

He sighs grimly and kisses my jaw before looking at my eyes in the mirror. “At my age, love doesn’t come too easily. We hold back because we’ve experienced love in most forms and none of it ended well.”

“You’re holding back because of the age gap?”

He nods. “I guess I’m worried that in a year you’ll wake up and decide you don’t want to be with an old man anymore.”

“You’re not old.”

“Not yet, but in a year…” His playful smile is contagious. “We’re good, Tempest, the tests are negative.”

“What?” I squeak and pick up the stick. My jaw drops, my head spins. “I’m not pregnant?” I don’t know how I feel about this. I don’t know how I should feel about this.

Tears spring to my eyes, it’s an irrational reaction but I’m emotional and confused.

“Did you want to be?” His tone is soft as I drop the stick into the sink and place my hands on his shoulders. “You look sad.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I don’t even particularly want kids. It’s just… overwhelming. I’m happy but also sad.”

“Me too.” His admission surprises me. “I was getting used to the idea.”

“You’d be starting all over again if you had kids now.” I lock my ankles around the back of his shins. “You’ve done it all before.”

His eyes cast downwards as he imagines the picture I’m painting.

“I still want to travel all over the world…”

“I wouldn’t stop you.”

I stroke his cheek and kiss his jaw. “I know you wouldn’t, but one day I also want to get married and you’re not interested in that. You’ve done that. I might not want kids now but I can’t say I won’t in ten years. You don’t want that either.”

“I almost wish you were pregnant now,” he says, sighing gravely as his hands tighten on my hips.

“Why?”

“Because you wouldn’t be breaking up with me, we’d be having a different conversation right now.”

He’s right but maybe this is a blessing. We’ve likely dodged a bullet.

“Can’t we just enjoy each other? For a little while longer?” His eyes are so earnest and surprisingly vulnerable in a way I’ve never seen.

“I’m going to Africa with Cassius.”

“Cassius.” His tone darkens much like it always does when I mention his closest friend.

“I was waiting to see the outcome of this but yes, I’m going to be on Cassius’ personal team.”

“I bet you are,” he mumbles and I feel immediately irate.

Sargent

The thought of her and Cassius sharing a tent, or a fucking hovel, in a foreign country, fucking and falling in love has me feeling nauseous. Cassius isn’t like me, he’ll snap a girl like her up and marry her. Especially one who is so much like him in the sense that she wants to save the planet and goes psychotic if you forget to recycle.

I’m losing her and I don’t know how to fix it.

“Is something going on with you and Cassius?” I ask stupidly and watch the shutters come down in her eyes. My jealousy overrode my better judgment. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. Word vomit. I just hate the thought of you being with somebody I know when you’re done with me.”

“We should quit while we’re ahead,” she tells me and I hate that thought too. “Nothing but hurt is going to come from this, besides, we’re so irresponsible together. We’ve been having unprotected sex like virginal teens for over a month.”

“We’re passionate, we forget the dull stuff, nothing wrong with that.” I look back at our time together fondly. I wonder if she doesn’t.

“That dull stuff, could change our entire lives.”

I shrug. “What do you want then, Tempest?”

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” she states. “I want you to want the same.”

Her answer floors me. “You’re young…”

“So? That doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want, especially with everything that has happened as of late.”

She has a point.

“I don’t want to get married again,” I admit. “And I don’t particularly want to be a father again. If it happened, so be it, but it hasn’t and I’m not interested in trying.”

I want to be honest with her because she needs to know I can’t be what she needs. It hurts me to say it but I can’t hurt her by lying to her.

“I can’t love with the same intensity that you do and because of that I’m never going to be able to give you enough.” I wipe away a tear that falls down her cheek. Dipping my head, I kiss her ready lips and press my forehead to hers.

“Well.” She exhales a shaky breath. “Thanks for your honesty, I guess.”

I kiss her again but she turns her head away.

“I should go.”

“Don’t,” I demand softly, urging her to do things my way, for a little while longer at the very least. “Not yet. Stay with me.”