Page 101 of Unbearable

It certainly wasn’t easy taking things slow with Tyler once his intentions were clear, but I think we both knew for it to work between us, we had to. Even though it was a mutual decision to not define what we have between us, I know we’re both on the same page with our commitment. And considering my personality, I’m surprisingly okay with that. I’m relaxed with where Tyler and I are in our lives, and it only assures me he’s the right person, because contentment sits in my chest.

We talked endlessly about what the future held for us as a couple and separately. I think both of us wanted everything out in the open so there wasn’t anything like, “Well, I don’t want the same things as you,” conversation later.

We’d both been burned by that already.

We even talked about what happens when I graduate in two years. All my life I’ve been raised at Walker Automotive and my intention has always been to have a career there. My dreams were my families and not because they had to be, but because I wanted them to be. My plan was to get my degree in accounting and use it by making sure Walker Automotive always ran as a successful business. Red had the shop under control but Mom couldn’t do everything in the office. That’s where I came in.

Tyler, well, he’d always seen himself working with Red. My dad and Colt started Walker Automotive together and originally wanted Red and Rawley running it when he passed away. We all knew Rawley had no interest in working there so that left Red and Tyler, two people who shared the same vision and level head. Well, for the most part.

Tyler’s biggest fear about our relationship, and the reason for us taking it slow, was me eventually wanting a child of my own. He wanted to know without a shred of a doubt, I wanted a future with him regardless of us having a family together or not.

And like I explained to him, carrying his child inside of me wasn’t what was most important. Being with him was. And he understood that, in part.

“I get that you want to knock me up, but there’s more than one way for us to make a baby,” I would tell him.

It was months of discussion that finally led us to today.

I’m finally out of school for the summer and I’m running on Tyler time, which means I’m about an hour late returning from the grocery store. We’re not living together, but I’d say I spend more time at his apartment than I do home.

We’re heading over to my mom’s house this afternoon for our annual Fourth of July party but I had to run to the store to pick up the salad dressing I forgot earlier.

As I pull up to the shop, Tyler’s new F250 truck is parked outside but he’s yet to drive it. Technically Tyler should have had his driver’s license back but when the judge read the toxicology report, they made him attend drug and alcohol classes and be seizure free for three months before he could apply to get his driver’s license reinstated.

Unfortunately, he was just about at the three month mark when he had one while we were watching a movie. Scariest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Up until then, I hadn’t seen one, just the aftermath.

While it was scary, I think in some ways, it brought Tyler and me closer together. To witness him so vulnerable and out of control of his own body was scary as shit, but it still managed to bring us closer together because it allowed me to see that side of him he desperately tried to hide from me.

I’m upstairs cooking the pasta for my salad when Tyler comes out of the bathroom having just gotten dressed. He watches me preparing the salad, his hands on the counter as if he’s preparing himself for something.

I stop what I’m doing and stare at him. “What’s wrong?”

“As long as you’re in my future, having a baby doesn’t matter,” he tells me right away, as if he’s been holding those words in for months. “I just want you to be happy.”

His meaning hits me, my heartbeat thumping in my ear. He truly does want me to be happy. All along, it’s what he’s wanted out of this despite his own hesitations.

I’m not shocked by the conversation because like I said, we’ve been having these talks a lot. Only I’m not okay with that statement because to me, he’s settling and what if we tried in vitro or something where we used someone else’s sperm. It all seemed silly to discuss now but in reality, we had to.

He was visibly upset the first time in vitro was mentioned by me, because the idea of another man’s baby inside of me was upsetting to him. That’s when I realized the severity of this for Tyler. Most women want babies. It’s in our DNA to nurture and want children.

Men, they can go either way. Some want them, others don’t.

Tyler, coming from a small family of his own, wanted lots of kids. Imagine when he’s told he can’t. And then on top of that, a man, a possessive man, would need to allow his wife to carry a child that wasn’t his. He’d never look into our child’s eyes and see himself.

Leaning into the kitchen island, he watches me as I continue with making my salad. “I’m okay with adoption, or that thing where we use a donor”—he waves his hand around—“should you, you know, want that someday.”

I want to both laugh and cry at his expression it’s that adorable.

Though we haven’t declared a relationship, all our talks are based on us being together.

I stop what I’m doing and look up at him. His brow creases. He’s waiting for me to say something. “So you’re okay with another man’s baby in me?”

He groans, shaking his head as he drops it forward. “Don’t say it like that, but yeah, if you decide you want to carry the babies, then yeah. But we should use someone we don’t know. I might punch the dude if we know him.”

Moving around the kitchen island, I stand in front of him. “They have professional services for that, Tyler.”

“Well good.” Twisting, he moves his hands to my hips. “He can’t be a part of our lives.”

“You do realize we’re like five years from that, right? You have to date me first, marry me, and then we’ll get to kids.”

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