Kai is silent as he sips his whiskey while I do the same. Pressure tugs on my chest, pulling the strings so tight it feels like I can’t breathe.
“You can bet Abby is giving Xavier sound advice, which will probably help, and I’m no comparison to my wife in that regard, but if it was me, I’d be asking myself if fighting to have another baby is worth potentially losing my spouse and my family.”
“It’s not.” I don’t even have to think about it. “I’m trying to think logically about it, and when I do, I know the right thing to do is to back down. But the emotional side of my brain is pining for another child. I feel guilty for feeling like this. Like why isn’t my current life enough? Because I fucking love Xavier, Cuan, and Aubree. I’d lay down my life for them in a heartbeat, so why can’t I just let this go?”
“The heart wants what it wants. It doesn’t make you a bad husband or father to want to add to your family. Wanting to spread the love around isn’t selfish and it doesn’t mean you love your family any less.” Anderson smirks and I instantly narrow my eyes. “You’ve evolved, Hunt. Imagine us having this conversation even ten years ago.” He thumps me in the shoulder. “I’m proud of you, man.”
“Taking a sledgehammer to my relationship is nothing to be proud of.”
“Don’t start that bullshit.” Kai jabs his finger in his chest. “I just told you it’s not selfish to want a baby, but you’ve got to work out if it’s worth more to you than what you currently have.”
“I just told you it’s not.”
“Then you already know the answer, Hunt.”
Xavier is pretending to be asleep when I creep into the guest room at Anderson’s just after midnight. Honestly, I’m surprised he wasn’t still up, drowning his sorrows with Abby.
I don’t say anything, padding quietly into the en suite bathroom with my overnight bag. I grab a quick shower to wash off the smell of the bar, drying and dressing in sleep pants. I rinse my mouth with mouthwash and vigorously scrub my teeth, breathing on my hand to see if I’m still expelling whiskey fumes.
Kai and I had more to drink than we probably should have, stopping for burgers and fries at a local diner on our way home to soak up the booze. I should probably wait until morning to have this conversation, but I can’t bear another night going to sleep when we’re not speaking.
Reentering the bedroom, I dump my bag on the floor and walk over to the bed, crawling under the covers on my side. I prop up on one elbow and let my gaze rake slowly over my husband. His bare back is facing me, his spine stiff with tension. I hate how stupid we’ve both been to let it get to this stage. I love him so much, and I hope he still knows that. “I know you’re not sleeping,” I quietly say. Neither of us have been sleeping great for months. “I love you, Xavier. More than anything. More than a baby.”
He releases a staggered breath, and his entire body stills.
“I don’t want to fight anymore,” I add. “If it means losing you and the life we share, then I don’t want it. Let’s just forget about it because I can’t do this anymore.”
Xavier turns on his side, staring at me slack-jawed.
“I need you, and I need things to go back to the way they were,” I say, feeling that truth down to the marrow.
“You mean that.”
I nod. “I should have said this weeks ago. Nothing is more important to me than you and the kids.”
Xavier scoots up against the headrest, reaching out to place his palm on my heart. “Stop stealing all my lines.”
It’s dark in here, but I can still see the tears gathering in his eyes. I can scarcely speak over the lump clogging my throat. “I’m sorry.” I mirror his position on my side.
“No, babe.” Xavier clasps the back of my head, pulling my face closer to his. His fingers weave through my gray hair in a way that is familiar and comforting. It was almost to the point where I was afraid to touch him, and I think he was the same with me. “Don’t apologize for telling me what you want. I want you to be honest, always, even if it’s something I don’t want to hear or something we don’t agree on. I’m the one who should say sorry. I want to give you what you need so badly.”
“But you can’t, and I’m okay with that, Xavier. My wants don’t trump my needs, and I need you more than I want a baby.”
“Silver Fox, I love you so fucking much.” His voice cracks as we wrap our arms around one another and press our brows together. “Let’s never do this again.”
“Agreed.” Tipping his chin up, I kiss him softly. “I hate what this has done to our marriage.”
“Don’t do that.” His fingers sweep across my cheeks, leaving a fiery trail in their wake. “This was a blip.” He cups my face. “I have something I want to say. Abby helped me to realize a few things earlier. I don’t want a baby now because I’m too stressed, but that doesn’t mean I might not want one in the future.”
Air falters in my lungs. “What exactly are you saying?”
“What if we park this for now and revisit the idea in a year? We can figure out how to have a greater work-life balance in the meantime, so maybe we can make it work at a future point.”
“Do you really mean that?” I whisper, scared to hope for too much.
“I do. You’re my world, Sawyer.” He kisses me deeply and passionately, but before I can take it any further, he pulls back. “I love the life we share, and if we can find a way to make room in our lives for one more kid, then I’m all for it. I’m not opposed to another child—you know how much I love babies—just the timing.”
“So, it’s not a no. Just a no for now?”
