AJ’s entire body was vibrating. “I amnotin denial.”
“Oh yeah?” said Noah, stepping forward. “How will you feel when I’m not big and strong anymore? When I’m not smart or capable?” His eyes were intent on hers, his mouth a rueful curve. “You haven’t thought about it, Age. I told youeverythingand you just…buried it.”
AJ gaped at him.
In a flash, she remembered the look on his face outside Blue Con, how disappointed he’d been.You just couldn’t do it, could you?She’d been eager, she realized. So very eager to believe it was anything else. Because if Noah did love her, and they still weren’t together, he truly was…sick.
She felt him watch her admit this to herself now.
Noah ran his hand over his face. “It’s a pretty standard response.”
His tone cut through AJ’s anger. She had hurt him, and she understood why. She was now the only living person who knew his reality, and she had made him feel erased. AJ covered her mouth to think. When she looked up, Noah was staring at a bleach spot on the rug.
“I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her hand. “I know you have HD. I…I read about it sometimes when I miss you. I’m always on alert. Whenever you do anything impulsive, it’s…on my mind.”
Hearing this seemed to get his attention. He looked up. “I miss you too,” he said with difficulty. “Sometimes, I—” He closed his mouth, and AJ watched his nostrils flare as he bit back whatever he’d been about to say. The clock ticked almost a full minute as he mastered himself.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said at length, his tone reserved. “You deserve someone who can give you children. Grandchildren. Someone you can grow old with.”
AJ thought of Libby’s crumbling marriage, of Patrick and Elle.Love is always a risk.
“Noah,” she said gently. “None of us are guaranteed old age, or any of that.”
“Yes,” said Noah, his voice breaking. “But with me you won’t even have a shot at it.”
AJ couldn’t breathe. “But I’d have you.”
Noah’s eyes welled instantly. “You’ll change your mind. You will. When you see what’s going to happen, you’ll—”
AJ shook her head. “This isn’t some decision I’m making,” she said. “It’s who I am. I’ve tried to want other things. I literally tried to marry myself off. But I couldn’t do it.”
Noah flinched. “You still might—”
AJ closed her eyes. “Stop, please,” she said. She peered into his dear, dear face. “You are it for me. It is what it is. You don’t have to like it, but just…lay off, okay?”
Noah took a fast breath, his eyes brimming. He looked down at the carpet again, wrestling with himself. When he spoke, his expression was severe.
“What about kids?”
AJ’s mouth went dry. “I don’t want kids,” she said, admitting it out loud for the first time.
Noah tilted his head as if he hadn’t quite heard her. “When did that happen?”
AJ tried to swallow. “I think I started to realize watching my sister-in-law last year,” she said. “But honestly, if opting out was more the norm, it probably never would have occurred to me to have them. I’ve thought about it a lot and the responsibility is really real to me. Maybe too real. I just…don’t want it. I didn’t have a super-joyful bond with my own parents, so I’m sure that’s in the mix. But yeah. Whatever that thing is that makes other people want kids…it’s not in me.”
Noah’s brow creased as he absorbed this information. AJ searched him, trying to get any read at all on his energy—nothing. He swallowed. “I didn’t know that.”
Her eyes filled. “Does it matter?”
Noah lifted his gaze, and for a brief instant, his face shone wild with possibility.
“If you really don’t want to be a mom, then maybe we could—” he started, and AJ’s heart seized.
Then a shadow fell across his features. His expression went blank.
“No,” he said, shaking himself. “No. This isn’t the plan.”
AJ blinked, disoriented. “The plan?” With a start, she realized he was referring to the same plan he’d outlined in L.A.—the one that precluded long-term relationships, children, and advanced HD symptoms.
