Excitement and guilt washed over me at the same time as he touched me. I was pregnant with his child and I hadn’t told him yet. I would. I needed to, but I couldn’t. Not yet. Not until I was sure that it was something that was real.
The doctor said it was real, but I needed to see that baby first. I needed to know that it was real and that it was going to be okay. I didn’t want to find out I was pregnant, tell him, and then lose it.
I didn’t want to tell him. I was too afraid.
But the way he touched me, pulled me into him and walked me out the door made me forget all of that. It made me forget the anxiety building in my brain, about thoughts of the baby. About everyone that ever came before him.
When he put his hands on me it was me and him and that was all. That was our entire world. It was this little bubble that I didn’t want to burst with news that might just send him running.
No, I could keep this to myself for a little while longer. Just a little while.
“Where are we going?” I asked, curious as he opened the door of his truck for me.
“I’ll show you when we get there,” he said. His voice was thick and sweet like honey to my ears. Where was he taking me?
It didn’t matter. I was along for the ride.
* * *
“This is it,” he said as he parked the car. It was… nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just an empty field out in the middle of nowhere Montana. Just like anywhere else outside of time.
“Where are we?” I asked as I stared out over the landscape. The mountains rose up, along the horizon, the field already filled with early grains blowing against the wind.
It was everything I ever missed about this place. It was the epitome of Montana. Wild and wonderful. Just like him.
It sent chills down my spine.
I was falling for him, even when I shouldn’t have. Even when I swore I wouldn’t. I’d been hurt before. I’d already gone down this road. It never ended well.
Give him another chance, the voice inside of my head wasn’t my own, it was the echo of Jess’ words. Another chance.
“It’s the start of something new. Of something different. It’s mine.”
“You own it?”
“I do. Free and clear of my father. He doesn’t have anything to do with it. I want to build on it.”
“No little house in town? Your storybook place?” I asked.
“It’s great for one or two people, but not for a family.”
I swallowed hard, the anxiety that he’d banished earlier returning. “Kids?” I asked.
“I mean, someday, with the right person. Sure. I’d love three or four, playing in the yard, helping in the garden,” he said. He was picturing it, hell I was too.
My hand flew to my stomach, to the little secret that was flourishing there, growing with each passing day. I was self-conscious.
“I never imagined you with children.”
“Me ten years ago? No. I didn’t want anything to do with that life. Didn’t even think about it. Except with one person,” he cleared his throat than continued. “I’m not my father. I don’t want to be like him. He didn’t raise me. He was never there. It was me and my mom, then it was me and whoever he hired to look after me.”
I nodded. His mom died when he was in middle school and from that point on he’d been raised by a series of nannies. Lifestyles of the rich, I guess.
“What about the business?” I asked.
“I like what I do now. I like what I manage now. I don’t need more than that. I don’t need to take over his entire system of operations. A conglomeration of corporations all under one roof. I just want this business. He can groom anyone else to take his place. Not me.” His eyes were so angry that I knew he meant it. He meant every word of it.
It was the fear that passed through them that woke me up to the reality of him. He was still very much the man I’d walked away from. He was still so very raw under the surface. Still so very angry and inflamed. It was the kind of thing I couldn’t fix. The kind of darkness that loomed ever present over him.
Would he make a good father?
I wasn’t sure, but he would make a good right now.
She was holding back, I could see it in her eyes. But what, I wasn’t sure, so I just sat there and looked over that empty lot with her. I wanted to ask her what kept her quiet. What kept her from sharing all her hopes and dreams with me, but I knew what it was.
I knew what was holding her back. Me. My past. All the things I did and said and promised to her and a million other women. I was that man. Was.
I wasn’t him anymore. I didn’t want that anymore. One night stands, so many nights too drunk to remember. When she was in the picture everything else faded away.