Page 25 of Mismatched

“Fine. Maybe a couple times,” she says, and I love hearing some optimism seep back into her tone. “But if I agree to that, you have to stop avoiding talking to me about this baby thing,” she says with a pointed look.

I toss our wrappers in the trash and sigh, moving across her little studio to curl on the corner of her couch. I’ve spent the last hour or so mulling over everything Seth said, but she’s right, I have been avoiding talking about it.

“I don’t know,” I say dropping my face into my hands. “Half of it was the way he sprang it on me...” My cheeks warm as I recall the urgent way he pawed my body the other night. The way, I’ve had to admit to myself ever since, I’ve been hoping he would touch me again. “But Seth is right, Anton’s hurting. He’s lost nearly everyone he loves. So I just... I’m trying to give it some thought.”

“Hold up.” Caprice raises a hand. “I was there for that whole conversation. I did not hear Anton’s brother tell you to heal him with a magic baby.”

I twist my fingers in front of me. “You’re right, he didn’t.”

He suggested we could be enough to fill the empty space. But Seth didn’t see the way Anton looked with Celia’s baby. What if starting a family is truly something Anton needs?

Caprice studies me with a frown. “Lydia, do you want a baby?”

“Ah, we’ve always talked about having kids someday...” I say, looking anywhere but at her.

“Talking about kids and wanting them are two very different things,” she says with a sharp look. Caprice and her brother were the product of their mother’s failed attempt to save her marriage. One of the reasons we became friends in college is because neither of us grew up with a dad.

“I do worry a little about balancing everything,” I say, thinking of my sister trying to manage around her son. “I’m not sure Henry could handle things on his own if I had to step back. I don’t want to do anything to disrupt the Pooches’ growth.”

“I wasn’t really asking if you thought you could fit one in around your business,” she says more gently. “I was asking if you want to become a mother.”

I bite my lip and look away. Caprice knows me well. She’s met my mom and has a decent grasp on some of my most complicated feelings. But even I’m not sure how to describe the dread this particular question inspires.

“I wish I was one of those people who has always known they did or didn’t want kids,” I say in a weak voice. “I’ve never had a strong drive to start a family... But I worry I might regret not having one. I’m just scared. How do I know which is the right decision?”

“I can’t tell you what to choose.” She squeezes my arm. “But take your time and think about it. And for God’s sake, don’t have a baby if that isn’t what you want.”

I nod, because I understand what she’s saying. Except Anton made it pretty clear the topic isn’t up for discussion. We’ve fought so hard to be together. Could he really just walk away? Could I let him?

Aside from a brief, ragey time when I thought he was cheating on me, I’ve never imagined us apart. The future has always been Anton and me. But I take a moment, trying to picture us with separate lives. I come up with a vague, cloudy vision of him with some faceless wife and kids. It’s hard to visualize, this nonexistent family of his.

What isn’t hard to imagine? Anton happy as a dad.

But when I try to come up with a different, future version of me? I draw a blank. At best, I can see myself at work. But every time I try to conjure up some cloudy figure waiting for me at home, I only see Anton. Does that mean I’ll be alone? Eating meals solo, walking the dog by myself. No one texting me to check in during the day or filling the house with the scents of baking lasagna?

I swallow. Close my eyes. I can still see the look he gave me the other night—the one where it was clear I was shutting us down. I was pushing him past some limit we might not come back from.

Again.

My chest aches.

We’ve been inseparable for ten years. Seeing each other through college, building our careers, supporting one another through family and personal struggles. Through good times and bad, as we said in our vows. So much between us just works, which is probably why we were able to weather Unmatched at all.

And here I am, thinking about bringing it to an end, when all he really wants—is a future together?

In the next heartbeat, I insert myself into that image with him. So it’s a cloudy version of us with the faceless kids. It still seems murky, still somewhat terrifying if I’m honest, but somehow familiar enough because we’re together. Maybe even... doable.

“Lydia? You’re awfully quiet over there.”

I take out my phone, only to have somewhere to look besides my best friend’s penetrating eyes, which I’m not ready for just now. But when I do, I suck in a breath. There’s a new text waiting from my husband.

Anton

Will you go out with me tomorrow night?

I look at Caprice and bite my lip. Guess it’s time to finish this conversation.

CHAPTER TEN

---