Page 77 of Then Came You

I want to pull over, but I'm eager to get to our date and help her forget all about the monsters in her life.

Instead, I lift our entwined hands and shower kisses on hers. "Listen to me, Tink. You are more valuable than any material possession I own. You could total this car, and still, the only thing I’d be worried about is if a hair on your head was hurt. Do you understand me?"

Nodding slightly, I can see she doesn't believe me.

"Tink?" I warn. "I need to hear you say you believe me, baby girl. You never have to censor yourself when you're around me. This car is replaceable. You're not." I untangle our hands so I can cup her delicate cheek and wipe away a tear sliding down her face.

"I love you. I'm sorry I'm such a mess." She sniffs, wiping her eyes.

"I love you too, Tink. So much. Never forget it, okay?" My voice cracks with vulnerability.

What she doesn't realise is that I'll be a broken mess without her.

I can tell she's internalising something else by the way her mouth moves, as if she's deciding on whether she should say something or not. I'm content with how much she's said already, so I don't push.

Yanking her hand away as if I burned her, she blurts, "I don't know if I want kids." I accidentally swerve the car at her confession. "I think I'm too messed up to have them."

I don't know what to say or how to digest her words. All I know is I'm disappointed, and my heart jolts suddenly.

"Blade?" she asks when I don't immediately respond.

I'm no therapist, but her reservations surely stem from her past.

"Talk to me," she insists, turning her entire body toward me.

I need a minute. Staring out the windshield, I drum my fingers on the steering wheel. I've already had the wedding and the kids, and it won't be a deal breaker if this is truly how she feels, but I won't lie and say I wish she felt differently.

"Do you want kids?" I ask.

"It doesn't matter…" she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest as if she's trying to protect herself.

"Yes or no?"

She rolls her eyes defensively. "It's not that simple." Her insecurities are getting the best of her.

Re-joining our hands, I need to know if she wants them or not. "Baby, it is. Do you want kids?" I ask again, pleading with my eyes for her to answer.

Her face crumples as she nods.

"Then we'll cross that bridge when it comes to it, but for the record, I think you'd be an amazing mother." I can tell my words are overwhelming for her, so I steer the conversation back to our evening ahead, knowing there will be plenty of time to discuss having children. "Let's park everything tonight and just get lost in each other."

The rest of the car ride is distracting, and not only because Row has unbuttoned her shirt indecently enough that I can see her entire flimsy bra, but also because she insists on blasting the music so loudly, I'm afraid the car windows will shatter.

She's playing another Bad Omens song, "Limits," and while the tune is catchy, I'll probably need a hearing aid after this. Apparently, I do that thing 'older people' do when I'm trying to focus on which way Waze is taking me, and I turn the volume down. Row laughs at me while I fiddle with the dials on my steering wheel to lower the volume.

"Want to go watch them sometime?" I ask when I can finally hear my own voice again.

"Who?" She taps her foot mindlessly to the beat, and I instantly love seeing how at ease she is again.

"Bad Omens. They're your favourite, right?"

"Blade. Babes. You can't just, like, go and see them whenever you want. They're an international band. I don't think they regularly tour Australia."

"And I think you forget, baby girl, just how connected I am. When the dust settles, let's think about chasing Bad Omens around the world."

"We can't do that!"

"Why the heck not?"

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