Page 69 of Beauty Of Her

Brett's face dropped as he realized the gravity of my words. His hands fell limply to his sides, and he stepped closer, seeking a connection. "I didn't know," he whispered, his voice laced with regret. "I didn't understand how much your house meant to you."

“You never asked.” I tried not to sound angry, but I was tired of everything. “And you brush it off when I bring up anything serious. You like to keep things light, but sometimes, we need to talk about the heavy stuff. That’s not who you are.” I crossed my arms, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Just tell me. What do you want rather than springing it on me? Because I’ve had it up to here with these surprises.” I held my hand up to my chin to emphasize my point.

“Okay, fine.” His throat clicked. “Do you really want to know what I ask myself every fucking day?”

“Yes, I do.” My gravelly voice almost swallowed my strength.

Brett nodded as his eyes turned a shade of glassy. “Will we ever have anything of our own?” Brett’s voice screamed with hurt, unlike the usual happy tone I suddenly yearned for. But I asked for this.

A pang of guilt stabbed my chest, seeing the pain in Brett’s bottomless eyes. He had been so caught up in his excitement and vision for our future that he hadn't stopped to consider…anything. But it was no excuse, and I couldn’t be in a relationship where impulse drove the decisions, leaving me to piece together the puzzle. “You can’t look at us that way. You and I should be enough. Like, what are you asking exactly?”

“A baby, Julia. What about a baby?”

“You’re talking about things that shouldn’t come first. What about getting engaged?”

“You know that’s implied. So, let’s jump to the chase. Would you have a baby with me, assuming the rest fell into place?”

My mouth went dry, and my throat tightened. I knew the answer Brett needed to hear, but I was still unsure if that was the answer I wanted to give. How old would I be by the time a baby even came around? I was already thirty-seven. Did I want another baby close to forty? After forty? I let his words sink in, the reality of what he was asking hitting me like a cold rogue wave. A baby. A tiny, precious life that would forever bind us together, even if everything else fell apart. And this wasn’t how I wanted to go about this decision. It felt like an ultimatum, a decision I needed to hand to Brett, but I wasn’t ready to. And he needed to embrace the fact I might never be ready. We needed to be enough for each other before all the bonuses.

“Well, I guess there’s my answer,” Brett snorted, walking away from me and heading into the pristine white chef’s kitchen.

“I didn’t say anything.” I followed him like a lost puppy.

“Exactly.” Brett’s back remained facing me, and he placed his hands on his narrow hips.

I took a step closer, my heart pounding in my chest, the thumping rushing to my ears. It was all I heard until laughter broke me from this trance. I whipped around and saw the girls running laps, or maybe they were chasing each other. But it was my first time seeing them genuinely happy in years. It should have been enough to pull me to where Brett needed me to be. After years of putting other people first, I wasn’t ready to do it again at the cost of my comfort and security. I knew what I needed, but suddenly, I realized that Brett needed more. And I didn’t have more to give.

“I’m starting to feel alone walking down a one-way street. And you’re either ahead of me or behind. But we’re not walking side by side,” Brett said, his eyes glazing over. “Why are you so guarded? Will you ever let me in?”

The air in my lungs deflated, and I didn’t know what else to say other than, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Brett couldn’t lift his eyes from the floor. “Where do you want to go from here?”

“Home.”

To say I was in a good mood would be a dream come true. To say I was in a bad mood was my fucking reality. Julia and I had barely spoken the last week since the house hunting from hell excursion happened. We kept things light between us while the ground below us crumbled. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the different things we wanted in the future. While I was sure we would bend for the other, it was only a temporary fix. Eventually, things would snap, and we’d ultimately end. I didn’t have the guts to pull the trigger and didn’t want to. I still prayed for that miracle for things to line up for us, but that light of hope grew dimmer each day. The only thing pissing me off even more than thinking about a future without Julia was our regular customer, Stacey Greenvale, a usually sweet indecisive seventy-year-old, but right now, she drove me up a wall.

“Which meat did you say cooks best on the stovetop?” Stacey peered over thick bottle cap glasses into the counter of meats resting on green beds of kale.

I gritted my teeth and smiled to keep my annoyance at bay. "Ground beef or diced chicken would be your best bet for stovetop cooking, Stacey," I replied with practiced patience, pointing out the options under the chilled glass. Stacey's indecisiveness wasn't anything new, but today, it felt like an extra burden on top of all the other things weighing me down.

“I don’t want chicken tonight. Is beef different than a steak? Would that work on the stovetop?” She peered innocently at me.

"Stacey," I forced myself to speak calmly, pushing aside my mounting irritation. "Any meat can be cooked on the stovetop, but it depends on what you want to make."

“Well, how about that one?” Stacey pursed her lips, pointing at a skirt steak pinwheel. “How do I prepare that?”

I pinched my temple, losing it. “You can just throw it in the oven and call it a night.”

“I didn’t say oven, Brett. I said stovetop. That’s what my husband wants.”

“Well, you can’t always get what you want,” I snapped, but she remained oblivious.

“What about a boneless leg of lamb? Can that be prepared on the stovetop?”

"Stacey, a boneless leg of lamb is typically roasted in the oven," I explained patiently. "It's not commonly prepared on the stovetop."

Her wrinkled face crinkled with disappointment. "But my husband really wanted lamb tonight. Is there any way to make it work? What do you suggest?”

---