“Well, I mean, you know.” I slowly look up at him. “Everything about my life is about to change. My career, my body, my time, even our relationship—and I don’t have control over any of it.”
“You have some control,” he counters. “You and I can work through anything that impacts our relationship. I know the changes to your body might be hard, but the guys in the band are going to wait for you. You’ll see.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Try me.”
I sigh.
I didn’t want to have this conversation just yet.
I wanted to wait until I wrapped my head around it.
“Everything is going to change. Don’t you see?”
He frowns slightly. “Of course. But it’s a good change. How many times have we talked about having kids?”
“Yes, but not now. Not when I’m at the pinnacle of my career.”
“The timing is a little off, but we’ve got seven months to get used to it and prepare. We’ll come up with a plan, and you know I’ll be beside you every step of the way.”
I want to say something snarky about how he’s not the one who has to make any sacrifices, but that’s not fair.
“What?” he asks.
Either my face gives me away or he knows me too well.
Probably a combination of the two.
“Nothing in your life is going to change,” I say carefully. “Not your body, your career, or how much sleep you get—it’s all going to stay the same. At least until the off-season. I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with it.”
Chapter Six
Zaan
* * *
I open my mouth and then close it again.
I may not know everything about relationships, but I know enough to be spectacularly cautious in how I respond right now.
“I know,” she says, moving away from me as she continues before I can think of what to say. “We should have kept using birth control. I honestly didn’t believe it would happen. They told me it probably wouldn’t. They warned me!” She throws up her hands.
“Babe, I thought you were happy about this?” I ask in confusion. I know it’s a lot, but she hasn’t once talked about how excited she is. Or shown any interest in the baby itself.
“I am. But I’m scared because my life is about to change in ways I can’t control. Just like when I had cancer. It’s not the same, I know that, but it’s the same feeling of helplessness because I can’t control what’s coming.”
The issue with being as in tune with each other as we are, is that I can all but read her mind. And she can read mine. At the very least, she can read my facial expressions.
“Say what you’re thinking,” she prompts as she looks at me. “You might as well. I can see it’s killing you not to.”
I almost smile.
Almost.
“What I’m thinking is that I’m helpless too. Helpless in how to help you cope. Helpless when it comes to the physical part of this. So I’m as helpless as you are, just in different ways.”
“I know.” She sags suddenly, as if defeated, and I hate this.
