Page 101 of Maybe in Another Life

“We can sit down,” I tell him. I am proud of how even my voice sounds.

“I can’t do it,” he says, not moving.

“I know,” I tell him.

His voice breaks. His chin starts to spasm, ever so slightly. “I’ve thought, for so many years now, that I just needed to get you back, and everything would be fine.” He’s so sad that I don’t have any room to be sad.

“I know,” I say. “Come sit down.” I lead him over to the sofa. I sit so he will sit. Sitting helps sad people, I think. Later, when he is gone, when I am the sad one again, I will sit. I will sit right here.

“I messed this all up. We never should have broken up in college. We should have stayed together. We should have... we should have done this all differently.”

“I know,” I say.

“I’m not ready for this,” he says. “I can’t do it.”

I knew this was what he was going to say, but hearing the words still feels like I’m being punched in the lungs.

“I completely understand,” I tell him, because it’s true. I wish I didn’t understand. Maybe then I could be angry. But I’ve got nothing to be angry about. All of this is my doing.

“I’ve been trying for days now to get on board with the idea. I keep thinking that I’ll get used to it. That it will all be OK. I keep thinking that if someone is right for you, nothing should get in the way of that. I keep trying to convince myself that I can do this.”

“You don’t have to—”

“No,” he says. “I love you. I meant that when I said it, and I mean it now. And I want to be with you through everything in your life. And I want to be the kind of man who can say, ‘OK, you’re pregnant with someone else’s baby, and that’s OK.’ But I am not that man, Hannah. I’m not ready to have my own child yet. Let alone raise someone else’s. And I know you say that I wouldn’t be the dad. I know that. But how can I love you and not share this with you? How could I not be there for all of it? It would drive a wedge between us before we’ve even gotten this thing off the ground.”

“Ethan, listen, I get it,” I tell him. “I am so sorry to have put you in this position. I never wanted to do this to you. To make you choose between the life you want and being with me.”

“I want a family of my own someday. And if I say yes to you right now, if I say I think we can be together when you’re having this baby, I feel like I’d be committing to a family with you. I absolutely believe that we could have a great future together. But I don’t think we are ready for this, for having a baby together. Even if itweremine.”

“Well, you never know what you’re ready for until you have to face it,” I say. I’m not trying to convince him of anything. It’s just something I’ve learned recently.

“If I had come to you last week and said, ‘Hannah, let’s have a baby together,’ what would you have said?”

“I would have said that was insane.” I hate that he’s right. “I would have said I’m not ready.”

“I’m not prepared to take on another man’s baby,” he says. “And I’m ashamed of that. I truly am. Because I want to be the man you need. How many times have I told you that there was nothing we could do to mess this up?”

I nod knowingly.

“I want to be the right man for you,” he continues. “But I’m not. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but... I’m not the right man for you.”

I look at him. I don’t say anything. Nothing I could say would change the way either of us feels. I much prefer problems with solutions, conflicts where one person is right and the other is wrong, and all you have to do is just figure out which is which.

This isn’t one of those.

Ethan reaches his hand out and grabs mine. He squeezes it.

And in that one motion, he is no longer the sad one. I am the sad one.

“Who knows?” he says. “Maybe I’ll end up a single dad in a couple of years, and we’ll find each other again. Maybe it’s just the timing. Maybe now is not our time.”

“Maybe,” I say. My heart is breaking. I can feel it breaking.

I swallow hard and get hold of myself. “Let’s leave it at this,” I say. “Just like in high school, this isn’t our time. Maybe one day, we’ll get the timing right. Maybe this is the middle of a longer love story.”

“I like that idea.”

“Or maybe we just weren’t meant to be,” I say. “And maybe that’s OK.”

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