Page 156 of My Real Love Affair

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing. It’s just—wow.” He shrugged. “It sounds like another one is about to bite the dust.”

“Another one what?”

“Bachelor. Free spirit. Whatever you want to call it.” He gestured at me with his beer bottle. “The infamous Austin Bancroft. Rebel child. Reckless soul. Wanderer. Falling for the good girl. It’s a tale as old as time.”

I felt my jaw tighten. “Your point?”

“My point is buckle up, buddy.” He grinned, but there was something sharp in it.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“A sexless marriage. Married women don’t have to have sex to keep the man. They got the man. They got the house. You’ll have a to-do list on the fridge, and picking up dog shit is just around the corner for you. You’ll give up that fast little car and end up driving a minivan.”

The words hit me wrong. Made my skin prickle with defensiveness. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I? I’ve seen it happen to dozens of guys. They meet some woman, fall in love, think it’s going to be different for them. And then?” He snapped his fingers. “Reality hits. The romance fades. The sex stops. And suddenly you’re trapped in a life you never wanted.”

“That’s not true. You wouldn’t know a serious relationship if it bit you in the nose.”

“Women want commitment and marriage,” Rodney continued, warming to his theme. “And guess what? Commitment and marriage get old fast. Especially for guys like us. We’re not built for monogamy and mortgages and all that domestic bullshit.”

“Guys like us,” I repeated. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You know what it means. We like variety. Adventure. Freedom. You really think you’re going to be happy with the same woman for the next fifty years? Coming home to the same person every night? Eating the same meals at the same table?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe.”

He snorted. “What about kids? She pops out a few kids and what do you think happens then?”

“I think I have a family,” I growled. “That’s pretty normal.”

He shook his head. “You’re going to be knee deep in baby shit and bottles. Your pillow talk is going to be all about what cool little trick the spawn did that day and who’s picking up the diapers the next day.”

He apparently thought that was pretty funny. He laughed, finished his beer, and gestured for another one.

I stood up, tossing cash on the table for my drink. “I’m done here. I really am not about to listen to you spew more bullshit when you don’t have the first clue about what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Austin. I’m just being honest. I’m trying to help you see the big picture. Prepare you for what you’re getting yourself into.”

“You’re being an asshole.” I looked down at him. “And you’re wrong. About me. About Melody. About all of it.”

“Am I? Or are you just too deep in it to see clearly?”

I walked away without answering. Let him think what he wanted. Let him wallow in his cynicism and loneliness. Because he was wrong.

The thing with Melody wasn’t going to fade. Wasn’t going to turn into some joyless existence of obligation and resentment. If I was fortunate enough to have her marry me and give me children, I would talk diapers all day every day.

I stepped outside and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. But Rodney’s words kept echoing in my head. Was he right? Would this feeling I had for Melody eventually fade into something else? Would the excitement fade? Would I wake up one day and resent the life I had chosen?

No. I shook my head, walking aimlessly down the street. That wasn’t going to happen.

Because what I had with Melody was different. She wasn’t trying to change me or trap me or turn me into something I wasn’t. She made me want to be better not because she demanded it, but because she deserved it.

That wasn’t a trap. That was a gift.

CHAPTER 48