“Kayne,” I sigh.
“That’s a no, I take it.” He sounds disappointed and starts walking again.
“No, it’s not a no,” I scramble, grabbing his arm. “It’s an ‘I don’t know.’ I mean, it’s one thing to get engaged, but it’s a whole other thing to rush into an actual marriage.”
“You think we’re rushing?”
“You don’t?” I actually laugh.
“No. I want to be with you, you want to be with me. I don’t see what’s so complicated.”
“It’s not complicated, it’s just—”
“Just what?” he asks anxiously.
“We haven’t really talked about anything.”
“What’s there to talk about?”
“I don’t know? Kids,” I blurt out.
“Kids?” he replies incredulously.
“Yes, like, do you want them?”
“I don’t know.” At least he’s being honest. “I never really thought about it. I never thought I would get married. Do you want them?”
“Yes, I think. Eventually.”
Kayne ponders this. “Okay, so we’ll have them. Eventually.”
“Just like that?”
“If it’s what you want, Ellie. If it will make you happy.”
“Will it makeyouhappy?” I counter. “It’ll never work if it’s all give and no take.”
He looks at me strangely. Like he’s seriously considering my words. “I think I take plenty.” He grins.
I snort. “I don’t mean take like that.”
“I know. I think kids would make me happy, especially if they’re half of you. I sort of like the idea of giving someone a childhood I never had.”
I frown immediately. I never took into consideration Kayne’s past when I brought up the subject of kids.
“Oh . . . I’m sorry . . . I wasn’t thinking,” I stumble over my sentences.
“It’s fine.” He smiles. “You’ve got me looking forward to first words and bedtime stories.” Although those are two very happy thoughts, the sound of his voice tells me he thinks differently.
“Did anyone ever read you bedtime stories?” I ask carefully.
His expression turns grim. “Yes. Once. I was about nine. There was this older girl in one of my foster homes, she was about fifteen or sixteen. She would readPeter Panto me and the two other boys who lived there. She read it mostly every night before our foster father would come home drunk and rape her.”
I look at him horrified, and suddenly can’t help but wonder if all his childhood memories are laced with such atrocities.
“Kayne—”
“It’s all right, Ellie. It’s in the past.”
