I wasalreadythere with David. I couldn’t tell Bill that without cutting him deeper, so I took a breath and looked him in the eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever get there,” I admitted, and in my head, I added,with you.
“You don’t know that. Look how far we’ve come since we met. We’re different people, better people.”
I cocked my head at him. Were we better people? Didn’t he ever feel me pulling away? Hadn’t I treated him awfully these past months as I recessed into my own depths? Did he mean it, or was he grasping at straws now?
And there was something that had never changed between us, and I didn’t think ever would. “Children,” I said.
He looked surprised. “Children?”
“Yes. You want them, I don’t. Could you be happy if we never had them?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I know youthinkyou don’t want—”
“It’s not that,” I said for the millionth time. “I—”
“Wait. I know you think you don’t want them, but you will,” he said. “Some women don’t get the urge for a few more years. I’ve always trusted in what we’re doing here. All I ask is, if I agree to put it off, that you’ll admit there’s some part of you that wants it, too.”
“Stop telling me what I want,” I muttered, resting my forehead in my hands.
I don’t want children. With you. I don’t want children with you . . . but do I want them with David?Do I want them at all?
The rashness of my decision to uproot my life began to weigh on me. David and I had not discussed children ever, because what other couple would a weekend into their relationship?
It was far too heavy of an idea to lay into, so for now, I pushed it aside. I needed to get my point across to Bill. I raised my head again. “I don’t think I want children at all, Bill. With anyone.”
He scoffed. “How can you say that? You’re a woman.”
“Not all women want children.”
“David doesn’t want them?” he asked skeptically.
I looked at the desk.
He emitted something between a laugh and a grunt. “You don’t even know. Liv, honey, what are youdoing?” he implored. “You left me for another man, and you haven’t even discussed the future? Does he say he wants to marry you?”
My eyes jumped to his. “It’s too soon for that.”
“Too soon? You walked out on mefor him.” He leaned on his elbows and clasped his hands between his knees. “Let’s say he’s actually serious about you. What happens when he decides he’s ready for a family? You going to run away from him, too? Or will you givehimwhat he wants?”
My chest tightened. I didn’t want to think about that. “Forget him,” I said. “This is about you and me. I know you want to believe things were fine, but they weren’t. Our problems ran deeper than David, and . . .”
“And?”
I thought back to what Jessa had said about her marriage at the park. That it wouldn’t have lasted, even without her husband cheating on her. “You and I probably would’ve divorced eventually,” I told him. “Isn’t sooner better than later?”
He gaped at me. “You know, I’m actually beginning to feel bad for David. Maybeyou’rethe one who’s going to stringhimalong and then dump his ass when he wants more from you.” Bill shook his head. “I wonder if he realizes just how cold and heartless you really are. Over the years, I’ve seen glimpses of how deep it runs. You can’t even find empathy for your own mom, yourfamily. And you tell me you want a divorce without shedding even one tear. I thought it was just a part of you, but this moment I see—that’s you to the core.”
I flinched. The words stung. If it made him feel better to say so, though, I would take it. Still, I clung to David’s words in the bathtub the night before and disagreed quietly. “He doesn’t think those things about me.”
“How could he?” Bill rolled his eyes. “He’s known you all of two seconds.”
I realized I was pulling on my earlobe, a sure sign of my discomfort. It reminded me of how David always noticed when I did that—the only person who’d ever wondered about it. “He knows me better than anyone.”
Bill started to chuckle, then stopped, blinking at me. With a low whistle, he said, “Wow. Brainwashed after a weekend. I might be impressed actually.”
I folded my arms on my desk. “I know it sounds ridiculous, and I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Try me,” he said. “What makes you think he knows you better?”
