Page 13 of Love Takes Home

“Seriously, though. You continue relaxing here until you get the call that you’re going to be an aunt. We haul ass back to town, and you spend the summer enjoying the baby.”

“I’m going to be an aunt.” I sigh with equal parts happiness and disappointment.

“Why do you look like you’re in pain?”

I snap my eyes up to meet his. How does he read me so well? Without much thought, I answer honestly. I always seem to be too honest with him. “Just thinking about things I’ll never have.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“You sure?”

“I don’t really know what to say.”

“Whatever you want without giving it much thought. Go unfiltered.”

I look at him and say the words I haven’t said out loud in so long. “I can’t have kids.”

I’ve faced my truth, and usually, I’m okay with it. Today it’s just hitting me hard. I look at Joker, expecting the shock, surprise, disgust, and other things I’ve gotten from every man I’ve told since the incident, but he surprises me.

“That sucks. What happened?” No reaction, no inching away from me like it might be contagious.

“I was…attacked. In New York my freshman year.”

“Go on,” he encourages.

“They stabbed me. And, well, they fucked up my ability to have kids.”

“Sorry to hear that.” He looks at me for a minute, an understanding in his eyes I’m not used to seeing. “You know there’s more than one way to have kids if you want them.”

“I know.” I smile. “And I’d never walk away from an opportunity. I’m absolutely not opposed to adoption or fostering, and never have been. But I’m a single woman. Nobody’s going to grant me an adoption. And now, I don’t qualify to be a foster parent.”

“You don’t know that.”

“What do you know about it?”

“I happen to know that I grew up in the home of a fabulous single woman who I still call Mom to this day.”

I turn my whole body to face him, shock all over my face. “You were adopted?”

“Worse.” He smirks. “Foster care.”

I stare at him, words gone from my brain.

“I was placed in care when I was three. First in a group home and I was there for a little while, but I don’t remember much about it. I was put with Mom when I was five.”

“Joker, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he waves me off, “I’m not. I had a wonderful life because of that woman.”

“What’s her name?”

“Annie.”

“That’s a lovely name.”

“She’s a lovely woman.”

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