I could see and feel him closing himself off. “I never said that.” I might have felt it, though, during the past day. “But we’re not in a hurry. The decision about us and whether we’ll move in together doesn’t have to be made before the baby’s born. We can keep dating and see where it takes us. Who knows? We could still be dating when the baby is a teenager. There’s no need to rush into a relationship if both of us aren’t ready for that.”
“Children need stability. There’s a reason people get marriedbeforethey have kids.” Whoa. Married? Had he just said that? I wanted to tell him to back up, but he kept talking. “I don’t want him or her bouncing back and forth between houses. What kind of life is that for a child?”
“Married?” I got out of bed, needing some space between us. I’d imagined us becoming partners, lovers, and parents, but I’d skirted around the concept of marriage. Not that I was against being married someday, but we were a long way off from that discussion. Initial one-night stands that resulted in pregnancy didn’t make for the greatest of relationship starters.
I’d gone down that rabbit hole when I first found out I was pregnant. The number of success stories were few and far between. We needed to make sure we had true compatibility outside the bedroom, too, and figuring that out wasn’t something we could rush.
“If not married, at least living together,” he said. “Why put off deciding when you know what the best option is?”
“Dowe know that?” I asked, unconvinced. Our disagreement at the baby shower had proven to me once again that we had things to work through as a couple. A lot of things.
“I do. You don’t?”
I took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts and speak calmly. I didn’t want to upset him, but I wasn’t going to just give in, either. “Jake, I care about you. A lot. More than…more than I’ve ever cared for any man, but even you have to admit, we’re not exactly a model couple. We fight more than my parents ever did, and it’s only going to get tougher after the baby’s born. What if we can’t get along? A divorce would be a lot harder on our child than us amicably living in separate houses. I’m sorry, but I can’t commit to moving in together, or marriage, until I’m sure.”
He gave me a long look, and I could see that I’d hurt him, which hadn’t been my intention. “If that’s how you feel.” He got out of bed and reached for his jeans. “I’ve got an early morning.”
I sighed. “Which you have every morning. Don’t go. Stay and we’ll talk.” I didn’t know if I could put this right because there was no easy solution, but I hated to see him leave, too, especially like this, with everything unbalanced between us.
He shook his head and continued dressing. When he was done, he came back to stand by the side of the bed. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Get some sleep.” He kissed my forehead and left.
Dammit. A moment later I heard his truck driving away. I hadn’t meant that to happen, but Iwasworried about our future. What I said was true. My parents hadn’t fought because my mother had given up the life she wanted, so her husband could chase hisdream. Growing up, I had sworn I’d never do what my mom had, but then I’d nearly fallen into the same trap.
I pinched my lips together.
During my months on the rodeo circuit as a barrel racing nineteen-year-old, I’d fallen in love with Rodney and forgotten every one of my rules. Whatever Rodney did or wanted, I went along with it. I’d learned to bury my objections and convinced myself that he knew best. Until he’d tried to sell my horse out from underneath me. Literally. I had just received my first place ribbon when I found him negotiating with one of the other competitors for the sale of my mare.
I’d found my backbone then and sent him packing. Or rather, I left, since it was his RV we were using on the circuit. Packed up my stuff, loaded up my mare in the trailer, and drove away in my truck without a second glance. The flurry of text messages that followed escalated from telling me I was overreacting and that we could work this out to eventually turning downright threatening.
After that, I wished I could say that I was able to move on, but truth was, I’d felt stuck. I didn’t trust myself to be in another relationship. What if it was the exact same thing again?
With time and a lot of hard work, therapy finally helped me feel more in control. My therapist was amazing and she taught me to set boundaries and learned when it was okay to stretch them and when I had to hold the line.
Ever since, I’d been fiercely protective of my independence, which Jake constantly threatened. I still couldn’t figure out if it was a case of him going through life with tunnel vision—only looking at the finish line without regard to how to get there—orif he was simply that controlling. I genuinely hoped it was the former, but my conversation with my mom and her comparing Jake to my dad came to mind.
But Jake was definitely right about one thing—and that was that it was late. I put the laptop on the bedside table and flipped off the light. I resisted checking my phone, knowing that Jake wouldn’t send a message. From the way he left, I knew I’d wounded his pride, so why didIfeel so battered?
As if sensing my turmoil, Izzy jumped up on the bed and settled against my side. After long minutes of staring at the ceiling, I fell asleep to the sound of the cat’s purr.
In the morning, Magellan stood over me and let out a mighty yowl, waking me from a night of restless sleep.
“Time for breakfast?” I asked, gently pushing the black cat to the side. “Give me a minute.” My eyes fell on Jake’s half-drunk beer, and an unexpected wave of loneliness flowed over me. I’d wanted him to stay, wanted his body next to mine, and his arms around me.
I wanted to wake up next to him.
If I could just get him to… I stopped myself. There was no magic solution that was going to bring about relationship bliss for us. That just wasn’t realistic, which last night’s conversation had made abundantly clear.
I forced myself out of bed and completed my usual morning chores, spending extra time out with the horses. Magellan, Fay, and Wellington went out with me but the dogs ran off chasing rabbits while the cat jumped up onto a fence post to watch me groom the horses.
The routine helped, but I needed something to keep me busy and productive. I eyed the small bedroom next to mine. I’d already decided it would be the perfect nursery, but it would need a lot of work. My parents had used it for storage, and I hadn’t cleared it out completely since taking over the ranch.
“I’ve got a few hours,” I said to myself. My first appointment wasn’t until noon. “Let’s just take a look and see what needs to get done.”
A rocking chair that had belonged to my grandmother could stay, I decided, surveying the room. That might come in handy. But the old steamer trunk and dresser had to go. They’d be heavy items. Normally, pushing and tugging weren’t a problem for me, but with the tenuousness of my pregnancy, I was being cautious.
Jake would do it.That thought was in my head before I could stop it. He’d been around so much since I’d sprained my ankle that I’d started to expect him to do things, which, of course, he did. He took on other projects, too. Home repairs that I’d ignored. A loose shutter, clogged downspouts, a bad board on the porch, the towel bar I’d never gotten around to hanging.
It had been nice, but I shouldn’t have let myself get used to it. Just like I shouldn’t have called him the night that I had a craving for Chinese takeout from the place that wouldn’t deliver all the way out to my house. Despite his schedule of early mornings, he’d cheerfully made the hour roundtrip drive so I could have orange chicken and egg rolls.
