Page 42 of Restored By the Mountain Man
"Do you?" I deflect, not ready to expose that part of myself yet.
He runs a hand through his hair and I can see him struggling with the answer. "I honestly don't know," he says finally. "Before Elizabeth and Rosie, I thought I did. We were so excited about becoming parents, about building a family together."
His voice grows rough with pain. "But now? The thought of loving someone that much again, of risking losing them…," he shakes his head. "I don't think I could survive it again. Does that make you want to run away from whatever this is between us?"
I laugh and the sound surprises us both. Ezra's brows draw together in confusion.
"Sorry," I say quickly. "I'm not laughing at you. It's just... relief, I guess."
"Relief?"
I take a deep breath, gathering courage. "Ezra, I've spent my entire adult life wrestling with guilt over the fact that I don't want children. Not that I dislike kids," I add quickly. "I love kids. I'll be the world's best cool aunt. But having my own? It's just not something I've ever wanted."
He stares at me and I rush to fill the silence.
"Everyone in my life keeps telling me I'm just young and naive, that I'll change my mind when I find the 'right guy.' They act like there's something fundamentally wrong with me for not wanting to be a mother. It's taken me years to accept that not wanting kids doesn't make me broken, no matter how much society tries to make me feel that way."
I search his face for judgment, for disappointment, but find neither. "So when you said you're not sure you could handle losing another person you love... I understand that. And honestly? It's a relief to know you're not expecting me to fulfill some maternal role I was never meant for."
Ezra steps closer, his hands coming up to frame my face. "You are not broken, Zoe Diaz. You're perfect exactly as you are."
"Even if I never want to give you babies?"
"Especially then," he says firmly. "Because that means you're choosing me for me, not for what I could give you or the life we could build together. You're choosing this, whatever this is, because you want it."
Relief floods through me so completely that my knees go weak. "I do want this. I want you."
He kisses me then, soft and sweet. When we break apart, I feel lighter than I have in years.
"Besides," he murmurs against my forehead, "we have plenty of time to figure out what we want our future to look like. Rightnow, I just want to buy you an obscene amount of pastries and watch you get sugar high."
I'm about to respond when someone calls my name.
"Zoe? Zoe Esmeralda Diaz?"
I freeze. I know that voice but it can't be right. They're supposed to be back in Portland. They're supposed to have left my cabin and gone home.
"Zoe, honey, is that you?"
A hand touches my shoulder and I turn around slowly, dreading what I'm going to find.
Tom's mother stands there with his father beside her, both of them holding a Sweet Pines paper bag. Their faces cycle through shock, recognition, and finally disapproval as they take in my appearance, Ezra's proximity, the obvious intimacy between us.
"Mrs. Patterson," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper. "Mr. Patterson."
"We were just getting some pastries before we drove back to Portland," Tom's mother says, her voice tight with controlled emotion. "Imagine our surprise to find you here... with someone."
The judgment in her tone is unmistakable. I feel Ezra tense beside me, his protective instincts clearly kicking in.
"Today is September 25th," she continues, her voice growing colder. "Do you know what today is, Zoe?"
Of course I know. It's the day before the anniversary of Tom's death.
"I know what day it is," I say quietly.
"And yet here you are," she says, her gaze flicking between Ezra and me with obvious disgust. "Spreading yourself around some small town like a common..." She doesn't finish the sentence but the implication is clear.
That's when something inside me snaps.
