Page 46 of The Breakup

I didn’t want to interfere in his parenting. Though if I were being totally honest, I didn’t want to be alone. I’m not good at alone. I never have been. I’m social by nature.

“You can come with me.”

I was relieved. “Okay.”

Christian set his masterpiece ablaze. He blew on it to get it going. “Tell me about your job,” he said, still not looking at me. “What do you do exactly?”

He had an amazing skill for keeping me calm. Being with him was so easy. Frighteningly easy. I launched into a description of my responsibilities and told him how rewarding it was to pair birth mothers with adoptive parents and how I always cried when the babies were sent home to their family.

“You really like kids, don’t you?” he asked, sitting in the chair next to me.

He had created a beautiful fire that danced in the dark, the warmth allowing me to relax my shoulders and my death grip on the blanket. “I love kids,” I said, glancing over at him. “I want at least four.” Without warning a sob wrenched out of me. “I thought I was going to have that.”

“Come here.” Christian stood up and took my hand. He pulled me to my feet. “Come sit with me.” He dropped back down into his chair and urged me to sit on his lap.

I dragged my feet a little. I didn’t want to let him comfort me. Because I already liked him too much. It was confusing and unnerving and crazy and a bad idea to actually like Christian. But he was determined, and I found myself on his thighs and leaning back against his bare chest. I sighed, hugging the blanket around us.

“How old are you?” he asked me.

“Twenty-six.”

“You have plenty of time to have kids. It will happen and you’ll be a great mother, and the guy you actually marry will think you’re the shit.”

That made me laugh a little. “I’ve always wanted to be the shit.”

“You already are in my eyes.” He kissed the top of my head.

I snaked my arm around his waist and looked up into his light eyes. “Likewise.”

Then I had to look away because something was shifting inside me—something crazy, something that made zero sense.

I turned back to the fire, afraid that I had metaphorically jumped into the scorching hot flames.

Christian and I sat there and talked, cuddled together, until the sun started to rise over the water and shed light on us.

Dawn. A new day.

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