Something in his jaw ticked, and I realised that I might have sounded harsh. While what I said was true, I hurried to clarify. “What I mean is I don’t want to marry you, oranyoneelse.”
“Why?” Ryan asked.
It’s a good question. I know the answer, but my response is odd. I’ve never wanted to be married. When we were little, while everyone around me was playing house, I was playing law office or courtroom. I never imagined being a wife. Then again, I never envisioned being a mother either. I’ve more than embraced the idea. I shook my head. That’s enough life changes for me.
Besides, marriage isn’t appealing to me, which I know seems odd. I grew up with parents who adored each other; my aunts and uncles had solid marriages. Great, even. My brothers, cousins, and Nancy are also in wedded bliss. It’s great for them, but I don’t seek the partnership that makes their union work.
My inner voice has been really annoying lately. It reminds me that co-parenting is also a partnership.
I just don’t want my life tied to someone else, I countered.
Except we would be tied together for at least the next eighteen years.
Ryan cleared his throat, pulling me from my thoughts. “Why?” he repeated.
“Marriage isn’t for everyone.”
“Jo, you are avoiding my question.”
He was right; I was. I gave him a more palatable answer. “I like my life the way it is.”
“Your life is changing,” he said, sounding suspiciously like my inner voice. Ugh!
“Maybe that’s all the change I have in me at the moment.”
“I doubt it. My suggestion is that we get married to facilitate a more practical co-parenting arrangement.”
Damn if he isn’t right. It would make things easier, especially since Ryan intended to split his time between South Dakota and here. It would be easier to establish his rights as a parent and be recognised by both countries if we were married.
At first, his announcement caught me off guard. I had no idea Ryan wasn’t just a former Ranger turned ranch hand. I wasn’t worried about his financial contribution to our child—I had that covered. But the cost of flying between Alberta and South Dakota every month would add up, and I made it clear I wouldn’t help with those expenses. “Mm-mm. I can’t help with the cost of the flights,” I told him.
To his credit, he just smiled at me.“I have the cost of my flights covered, but since we are on the subject, money isn’t something I have to worry about.”
It felt foolish to be worried about him being able to care for himself or our child when he explained it to me. How was I to know the man had bank? His family was responsible for much of the machinery that kept the ranches and farms around here operating. I guess, all things considered, Ryan wasn’t a bad choice in a “baby daddy.”
So, what he was proposing didn’t sound like the marriages with which I was acquainted. Instead, it seemed like something entirely different—more like a business arrangement.
“When you say we get married, what does that look like to you?” I asked.
He paused, contemplating his words. “It looks like a partnership,” he replied. “I’ll handle the financial responsibilities, ensuring both you and our child are well provided for. When I’m in town, I’ll be fully present and supportive. When I am not, I’ll be only a phone call away if you need anything at all.”
“Okay.” My brain whirled, trying to process the information. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting his answer to be, but his scenario was one I could consider.
“You’ll never feel like you are parenting alone. I want to ensure you have the support you need, whether or not I’m physically there. Together, we can make this work, and I’m committed to being there for you every step of the way.”
Well, that all sounded good and all, but what about the rest of it? What about living arrangements? These questions lingered, and I needed clarity before committing to this arrangement.
“Will we have to live together?” I asked.
His eyes narrowed slightly, and he hesitated before answering. “No. We don’t have to live together…” He tilted his head to the side, a crease forming between his brows as if weighing the implications of what he was about to say. After a moment’s pause, he continued, “At least not for now.”
“What do you mean, ‘at least not for now’?”
Ryan’s eyes lingered on my growing belly. “We might want to reconsider our living arrangements once the baby is born. Having us both under one roof would provide a stable and consistent environment for our child, reducing the stress of moving the baby back and forth. It would allow us to shareresponsibilities more easily and ensure we’re both there for those precious moments. When I’m in town, I can be a hands-on dad, making it easier for us to adjust to the new routines that come with a newborn.”
That was a lot to digest. Why did he have to make sense? Everything he said sounded like it was what was best for the baby. Was it wrong of me to wonder about what was best for me?
“Say we lived together at some point, couldn’t we revert to living separately when our child gets older?” I sounded hopeful.
