I cleared my throat, but the words still came out as gravel. “What do you think of the house?”
Cradling the glass in her palm, Gabriella looked around. “It’s big, I’ll grant you that.”
What I really wanted to ask was if she wanted something like this. Ma was planning to move out, and if we consolidated our assets, there was no reason we couldn’t find a place equally as grand.
Gabriella deserved to live in a fecking castle.
And I would give it to her.
“A lot of rooms to clean.” She laughed and took another sip of the drink.
“The cleaning service could come more often,” I insisted. Pulling away, going back to the edge of the room, I tugged her into my arms. “Do you like the house?”
Gabriella placed the glass in my gloved hand. She debated her words but eventually lifted her gaze to mine. “Truthfully? No.”
I cocked my head to the side, studying her. “Why not?”
One delicate shoulder lifted in a shrug. “A house should be brimming with life. Kids, a family. Christmases and birthdays. Something this grand feels like a statement, not a home.”
A single word in that declaration made my heart thump over itself. We hadn’t spoken of children. Ever. That was probably a conversation we should have. While now did not feel like the right time, the opportunity was there.
My chest filled with a strange emotion. Hope and the idea of a future that didn’t end in a body bag. I knew instinctively that Gabriella would make a wonderful mother. The only thing I had to do was try to be a good father.
“Do you want kids?” I asked quietly.
She couldn’t look away fast enough. “No, not really.”
Pain stabbed straight through my chest. The inflated feeling whooshed out, the ideas I dared to have cut down before they could fully form.
Who could blame her? No one as beautiful as her would want to procreate with a scarred monster like me.
“Well, it’s a good thing you had your cycle,” I bit out and took a long swallow of the drink.
The burn of the smokey whiskey did nothing to numb the agony.
Gabriella whirled around. “You snooped in the trash!”
I set the now empty glass on a side table. “We’ll have to be more careful in the future.”
“That’s disgusting.” Gabriella shook her head vehemently. “Who looks in the trash for feminine products?”
“I wasn’t looking,” I snapped, ready to be done with this conversation so I could nurse my wounds and lock away the idea of ever becoming a parent. “I blew my nose, and when I dropped the tissue, I saw the bloody plastic sticks.”
Gabriella bit her bottom lip hard and battled a laugh.
I looked away, not wanting to see the smile she refused to give.
“Tampon applicators,” she said breathily.
“Yeah, whatever.” I raised a hand as a city councilman looked our way. “Time to talk shop again.”
But Gabriella didn’t move with me. “I’ll be right back.”
I frowned.
“I need to use the bathroom,” she whispered.
I nodded, too hurt to say more, and I couldn’t walk away fast enough from the woman who took my beating heart and stomped all over it.
