Page 94 of Almost Home
One hand on his chest, I stopped him. “You need to understand—I may not be able to have kids.”
He swallowed. “Okay.”
Pain pinched in my chest. “I don’t know for sure. But obviously, it didn’t work out the first time. I know there’s nothing I could’ve or should’ve done—but it may be something we need to accept.”
His navy eyes flicked back and forth between mine like they so often did, trying to read what I wasn’t saying.
“Do you want to try for kids? Did you ever try with—”
“No. I think I always knew it wasn’t right—knew bringing kids into it didn’t make sense.” I’d never had the conscious thought that we wouldn’t work, and yet it felt like once he’d initiated the divorce, all I’d felt was relief. Well, that and failure, but I’d long since accepted that it needed to happen.
Wilder nodded. “Have you talked to a doctor?” But before I could answer, he shook his head. “Actually, no. The biggest question is, do you want to try? Do you want to have kids?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice tinged with tears. I hated that I was so close to crying, and yet I couldn’t not. I’d always wanted kids with Wilder—always.
“Then we’ll figure it out. If it doesn’t work for us, then we’ll look at other options. And if it’s just you and me?”
I pressed my lips together, staving off what would most definitely be a sob.
“Then I will live my life a happy man. And we will be the best aunt and uncle Wyatt and Warrick and Eddie’s kids have ever had.”
That did it. This man was so full of love, and I felt so privileged to be the person who got to feel and see it. Who’d seen it years ago and could see how he’d survived all that he had and still come out able to love so beautifully.
“I love you so much,” I said, my voice nothing but a whisper.
“I love you, too.”
EPILOGUE
3 Years Later
Wilder
Mom handed me a pack of glitter glue with a smirk that told me she relished seeing me like this. “You’re up, Wilder. Time to show Ella and James your creative prowess.”
“Dad, show me!” James’s enthusiasm was accompanied by a toddler flail that knocked half the markers and stickers on the ground. He’d hit a two-year-old growth spurt, and it was almost as bad as having a puppy—or so I imagined. But his tiny nose, giant blue eyes, and dark brown hair that curled over his ears and at his neck made him an adorable combination of me and his mother. And according to my mom, he was the spitting image of my dad when he was little.
Sarah and I had never gotten a puppy because it turned out she got pregnant with James on our honeymoon, six short months after I’d come back to Silverton.
“I think I’ll leave you and Grandma to it,” I said, winking at Mom and bending to kiss my son’s head. I’d never tire of it.
“Are you just going to abandon me to these crafts and your mother? Come on, man.” Calla gave me an eyebrow raise from across the table, where she sat covered in stickers courtesy of my oldest niece, Ella.
“Callaway, you need to develop your crafting skills or these poor children are going to be creatively useless.”
I chuckled as I entered the kitchen to find Sarah, Sadie, and Wyatt doing the same.
“Mom, don’t hassle my wife. She’s plenty creative.”
“Ew, no. No,” Warrick said, roused from his new-dad nap on the couch by the double entendre from our oldest brother.
Sadie snickered but kept her focus on mixing some kind of batter that would inevitably lead to something delicious. Motherhood suited her as long as she still got to bake. Warrick’s mother hen nature kicked into high gear after the twins were born two months ago, but the more he did for her, the more it drove her crazy. She didn’t mind him taking care of her, but when he tried to tell her she could take a break from baking, I think it was the closest to a near-death experience he’d ever had.
“Wyatt! Don’t start with me,” Calla said as she peeked into the kitchen, her threat completely empty based on the beaming smile she gave him.
I moved to find my lovely Sarah, who’d turned her attention back to the two babies she held, one of whom would need to eat soon, and the other, which was fast asleep. Warrick’s twins were born about six weeks after Wyatt’s third child. He and Calla had bred like it was their business, and maybe for a former cattle rancher, that made some sense.
But yes, we liked to give him flack about it. Warrick’s favorite line of questioning was how they found the time to make so many babies in between Calla’s tours, but it was Wyatt and his full arms, heart, and house who had the last laugh.
