Page 52 of Beacon

After Impact and especially after Josh died, thingswere different for me. I still kind of wanted children in the back of my mind, but I wasn’t in a position to be a good mother—not when I wasn’t settled and was still trying to find myself.

“So,” Layne said, the words slow and very careful, “You’ve never thought about it with Mack? Having a baby with him, I mean.”

I swallowed hard, filled with the anxiety that always overwhelmed me back then when I thought about belonging to a man in a permanent way again. “I’ve thought about it.”

“And?”

I shake my head. “We’re not together for real. We can’t have a kid. I mean, it might happen accidentally, and we’d deal with it then, but we’re always pretty careful about it. The timing and everything. We don’t want…”

“He doesn’t want it either?” She was being so incredibly gentle, but it felt like a slap in the face just the same.

“He says he’s happy.”

“I know. I think he is happy. Ever since you and he hooked up, he’s seemed happy. Content. I just meant…” She focused on the dirt road in front of us and thought for a minute. “He’s always struck me as a traditional guy. I guess I always assumed he’d want to get married and have kids.”

She was right about him. I knew she was no matter how defensive her questions were making me. “Maybe he would. In a different world. In a different relationship. ButI check with him all the time, and he keeps telling me he has what he wants. Why would he lie to me?”

She had an answer. I could see it on her face even though she wasn’t getting it out.

“Just say it,” I blurted out.

“Maybe he’s lying to you because he doesn’t want to lose you. Or maybe he’s lying to himself and has convinced himself he has everything he wants out of life. Or maybe he’s making do and not letting himself hope for more. Or maybe I’m completely wrong about all of it. I want the best for both of you. I want you both to be perfectly happy. And if this relationship is what makes you so, then I completely support it. I know why you can’t commit to more, and I totally understand. So does Mack. But I’ve always thought maybe… maybe beneath it all… he…”

“Wants more,” I finished for her. Brokenly. “He wants more than me.”

“No! He wants more than what you can give him right now.” When she glanced over and saw me on the verge of tears, she hurried on, “I’m not saying that’s how it is! I promise I’m not! But maybe you can check in with him. Sometime soon. If he tries to brush it off, don’t let him. Make him tell you honestly what he really wants in a relationship and in life.”

“I thought…” I sniffed and squeezed my arms to my belly, horrified and grief-stricken by the idea that Mack wasn’t as happy with things as he always told me. “I thought I’d done that. I worry about it sometimes. Of course I do. But he’s always told me he wants to be with me exactly as we are. It’s not like he’s in love with me or anything.”

Layne gave me a sharp look with a jerk of her head.

I bit my lip hard. “You don’t think… I mean… we’ve been clear about things. He wouldn’t…”

“I don’t know,” Layne whispered. “I really don’t. All I know is that sometimes he looks like he…”

He looks like he loves you.

I knew how she would have finished the sentence if she could have gotten the words out.

I was so torn up by the possibility that I could barely stay composed for the rest of the drive back to New Haven. Mack wasn’t even there. He was traveling, doing one of his rounds of help and assistance in the area.

So I had to wait two more weeks before he finally stopped by New Haven. I’m sure he was expecting for us to have a few days of fun and companionship together, but what happened was that I forced a conversation neither one of us wanted to have.

He tried to brush my questions aside, exactly as Layne had predicted.

Then he tried to minimize his own feelings by sounding real casual about it.

But I kept pushing, and eventually the truth came out.

He wanted more. He wanted something serious with me. He wanted a wife and a home and a family.

And back then I was absolutely certain I’d never be able to give that to him.

So I ended things. I crushed us both. And nothing was the same between us again.

We were friendly and polite anytime our paths crossed, but they didn’t cross nearly as often. I had to hear about all the women he was dating in the surrounding communities—fortunately he dated no one at New Haven where I was spending most of my time—and I had to make myself be glad about it since I sincerely wanted him to be happy.

But I wasn’t happy. Not entirely. Not anymore.

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