Page 160 of My Real Love Affair

CHAPTER 49

AUSTIN

Ishould have seen the reversal coming. Should have prepared answers that wouldn’t make everything come crashing down. But I didn’t.

“What about you?” Melody asked, looking at me expectantly across the dinner table. “What are your answers?”

Marriage. Kids. The whole domestic package she’d just laid out with such clarity and hope. She had actually thought about it. She knew what she wanted. I only knew I didn’t want any of that. I had never actually talked to anyone about my future. No one expected me to have thoughts.

And I didn’t. Not really.

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Tried to find words that wouldn’t be a lie but also wouldn’t destroy what we’d built. I could tell this was important to her. That was normal. I was the one who wasn’t.

“I never saw myself getting married,” I said finally. “Or having kids.”

Her smile faltered. Just a little. But I saw it.

“Never?” she asked. Her tone had gone just a little higher.

“No. I mean, I don’t know.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Kids have always kind of grossed me out. And annoyed me. Mynieces and nephews are cute, I guess, but they’re also a royal pain in the ass. Loud. Messy. Demanding. I don’t mind hanging out with them for a few hours, but I like knowing someone else is taking care of them. I’m barely able to take care of myself. I don’t want the responsibility of taking care of another human.”

Stop talking, a voice in my head screamed.Stop talking right now.

But I couldn’t. The words kept coming, like I was compelled to be honest even as I watched her face close off. I knew I was saying all the wrong things, but they were my true thoughts. And if we were going to do this thing, we had to be honest.

“I’ve always seen myself living the bachelor life. Until I’m in the ground. You know me. I’ve been honest about who I am. I’m riding the wave of whatever excites me. No commitments. No obligations. No ties.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Melody stared at me across the table. I watched as all the warmth and intimacy we’d built over dinner vanished. Everything we had established over the past week was just gone. An invisible expanse opened between us, wider than the table, wider than this room.

I’d fucked up. Badly. “Melody? Tell me what’s on your mind. What are you thinking?”

She wiped her mouth and nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” I repeated.

She stared down at her plate that still had some of her meal left on it. “Are you done?”

I wasn’t, but she stood and gathered up plates with jerky movements. She was pissed. Or disgusted.

“Let me help,” I started.

“I’ve got it.”

“Melody, please talk to me.”

“I said I’ve got it.” Her voice was tight. Anger rolled off her in waves.

I stood anyway, reaching for the serving dish. “Let me at least help you clear the table.”

“I made dinner. I can do it.”

I rolled my eyes and tried to snatch the dish from her hands. She could be so stubborn. She pulled it away from me, and the movement was too quick. The glass dish slipped from her hands and crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces. Chicken dropped to the hardwood.

We both froze.

“Shit,” she breathed.

“Don’t move. There’s glass everywhere.”