Page 120 of Bona Fide

“It’s too much,” she objects, throwing a hand in the air. “It’s too much work, and you’re not the one that has to gain a million pounds in the process.”

“A million...Demi, if it’s your weight you’re worried about then—”

“I just don’t want them,” she snaps, her blue eyes boring into me. “You’re too busy. I like the way I look. We have time…” Her face softens. “We can do it later...maybe.”

“Maybe? I’d fucking carry the babies if I could.” I extend the pamphlets in her direction and throttle them in the air. “But this, Demi, what the fuck?!”

“Calm...down,” she soothes. “It’s not a big—”

“You just killed our child! The fuck?! I can’t—why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve—”

“Talked me into it,” she rebuffs. “I spoke with Phoebe and she—”

“My sister isn’t your husband. This is OUR decision. This is our life. You married me knowing that I wanted a family. I just said we talked about this a million fucking times.”

“And it sounded great until I had to become the science project with a kid inside me.”

My eyes turn into slits. “Women get pregnant every day. What in the fuck does that even mean?!” I chuck the reality of my situation out of my hands, raining white sheets of information and parchments all over the floor.

“It’s done.” She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “I went and did it and it’s done.”

My gut wrenches, and I feel like I’m going to get sick all over the floor.

She just got rid of a small little baby—our baby. I don’t know how big or how far along but...it doesn’t matter.

I could’ve had a son or a daughter. Someone that would’ve loved me with their entire being, and I would’ve wanted nothing more than to give that in return.

It’s done.

Yeah...it is.

Demi and I—we’re done too.

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Demi crows softly. “We earned this.”

My eyes pull back to her face, and I see nothing but a huge regret in my life and enough time of dealing with it.

“You blew yours,” I vouch. “You’re on like chance number four million.”

“Wade,” she chides with a heavy sigh. “We’ve been together this long, think about it. We are a power couple, the most powerful in the world. We’re young and vibrant, imagine what we’d look like with children. How it would be for your second term. Think about the future...it could hold so much more than we ever dreamed.”

The answer is no, hell no, and will always be no.

“Okay,” I say instead so that she’ll go daydream about future plans and not focus so much on what I’m doing. How I’m devising a way to catch her doing something so unforgivable that she’ll be stoned alive by the American people.

My answer seems to appease Demi because she gives me a faint smile before turning on her heels and leaving the room.

“Dem.” She pivots on her feet to face me, with that same smile she walked in with. The one that I can’t wait to have smacked off her face. “Will you promise not to mention anything until we’ve discussed more of—”

“Yes, absolutely.” Her lips fall. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Are you still in love with Reagan Shelton?”

“No.”

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