Page 51 of The Girlfriend Game
Kerry gives me a smug look, which I reciprocate with glare. She’s right about one thing. If it weren’t for her intervention in my love life, I never would have matched up with Zeke.
Sadly, though, and something I’m scared to admit to even my own sister, is that I’ve fallen for Zeke. It wasn’t difficult to do.
The problem lies in the truth I just uncovered about us. This thing between me and Zeke can’t turn into a long-term relationship. Zeke makes great boyfriend material, but the little tidbit I learned recently about him has made it abundantly clear we aren’t at the same stages of life when it comes down to the desire for a family.
It happened one night last week while we were at a restaurant on Lake Union. It was one of those romantic evenings where the two of us were enjoying a glass of wine, sharing the events of our day, holding hands and sitting close as we watched the boats out on the lake. It was perfect until a family of five sat down at the table next to us.
Within a few minutes, one of their young children began to scream and throw a fit, as will often happen when a child is hungry or tired. The glaring difference, though, is that while I let it slide off my back and didn’t let it bother me, it clearly got under Zeke’s skin.
I saw him grow agitated and frustrated, shutting down until we quickly finished our wine, and he requested the check.
When I asked him what had upset him, he told me. And I knew in that moment, I would have to make a decision.
“Kerry,” I say quietly, afraid to admit the truth. “The reason I’m on the fence about having him meet the family is that I’m not sure we’re going anywhere.”
I suck in a breath, my voice barely a whisper. “Zeke told me he doesn’t think he wants kids.”
Kerry whips her head toward me as if my announcement was a booming explosion. I watch her face as it reads shock, then sadness as she frowns, holding out her hand for me to take. A sisterly show of love, support, and compassion.
She squeezes my fingers gently in hers. “Oh, honey. Men always say that. I think it’s an instinctive protective mechanism. Biologically, they’re born to produce offspring, but are scared of the fatherly element. Even Brendan was freaked out at first when I told him I was pregnant with Cannon. And now look at him. He loves being a father. I’m sure the same holds true with Zeke.”
I give her a glum shake of my head. “I don’t think so. He was so adamant. He has his reasons, which I understand, and there’s nothing I could ever do to change his mind.”
While I won’t divulge those details with my sister, they are valid objections that can’t be easily remedied. Deep-rooted psychological impacts brought on by his own father and his childhood, as well as his career. As his girlfriend, I would never want to be the woman who pushed him in a direction he wasn’t comfortable going.
“I’m sorry, sis. Don’t lose out hope, though. He could come around. Surely, he knows by now how much you want children of your own, right?”
Shame and guilt wash over me and I turn my head to avoid my sister’s perceptive gaze. It makes me a sham to be a walking, talking professional in psychology. I encourage patients to openly share their feelings and truths with their partners and people they care about, because it’s only through honesty that they can grow.
Yet here I am, hiding this very significant detail about myself from Zeke, avoiding the entire conversation of children and their importance to my future.
I shake my head reproachfully. “I haven’t told him yet.”
Kerry’s mouth drops open, but she wisely shuts it again.
“Why not?” she asks softly.
“It hasn’t felt like the right time. And, honestly, I don’t want to sound like a desperate woman. Because I’m not,” I add, smacking a hand on the chair’s armrest for emphasis. “I don’t need him or anyone to fulfill my family goals. But I also don’t want to scare him away. I’ve just wanted to enjoy being with him without this pressure. Does that make sense?”
I peer at her under my lashes, begging her to understand where I’m coming from. Instead, a scowl forms across her face.
“Kenny, I can’t believe you haven’t even mentioned it as a prospect. That’s just…so unlike you.”
I chew on my lip, feeling the weight of her judgment. I cleverly examine my freshly painted nails to avoid her scrutiny.
“If you’d heard how adamant he was about never having kids, you wouldn’t have mentioned it either.”
A deafening silence descends between us, the chatter of the room and the electric sound of nail machines drowning out her judgment and accusation over my decision and my weak excuse of avoidance.
“I know I should break things off before our feelings grow too deep,” I confess, feeling the tears form in the corners of my eyes. “But I can’t find the strength to do it. Zeke’s a really good man. We’ve only been dating a month and there will be plenty of time to bring up this topic down the road. For right now, I’ll play it by ear.”
I extract my hand from hers and place it in my lap, working through the conflicting thoughts and emotions that so many women go through when it comes to making choices about their love lives.
Do I stay with Zeke and see where things go? Do I cut my losses now, knowing that we aren’t compatible if he doesn’t ever want children?
An unfamiliar pain jabs at my heart. It hurts. It feels like regret and loss. The old proverb of one in the hand is worth two in the bush is symbolic of my current situation. Is what I have right now with Zeke more valuable than the possibility of a family in the future?
Kerry wiggles her toes in an admiring fashion and thanks the pedicurist as I sit in quiet contemplation over my decision.
