Page 101 of Mistaken Intention

“I don’t know how many times we’ve made love, but I haven’t used a condom, have I? Not once.” I let my head rock back, staring at the ceiling for a moment, before I look back at her. She’s wide-eyed, but I can’t believe this is news to her. “How could I have done that to you? I mean, what the hell is wrong with me? I’m so sorry, Josie.” I turn to Hunter. “Don’t give me any bullshit. I need to know I haven’t put Josie in danger.”

“How the hell am I supposed to tell you that?”

“By answering a straight question for once.”

“What question would that be?”

“Did I used to sleep around?”

Hunter stares at me for a moment and then looks at Josie, just briefly, before returning his gaze to me. “You hadn’t slept with anyone for over a year before the accident.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“And do I have regular medicals?”

“You do.”

“When was the last one?”

He thinks for a moment. “It would have been late June or early July, I think, but I’m sure we can find out.”

“We don’t need to… as long as it was recent and everything was okay.” He nods his head, and I turn back to Josie. “That’s one weight off of my mind. But I still can’t believe I allowed this to happen. Or that I had a conversation with you about having children, and didn’t realize the consequences of what I’d already done.”

“Will you stop panicking?” she says. “There are no consequences.”

“You… you mean you’re on birth control?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t understand.”

“I can’t have children, Drew.”

Her words seem to echo around my head. “You can’t?”

“No.”

“How do you know?” I ask, and she steps away, turning and looking toward the window.

“It’s not something I talk about very often,” she says, her voice little more than a whisper. “But when I was thirteen, I got sick.”

A shiver runs down my spine. “How sick?”

“Very. It started with headaches. They were pretty fierce, but for a while everyone assumed it was because my periods had just started and my hormones were all over the place. After a few months, though, they got worse and my mom took me to see a doctor. I had some tests and a scan, and they found I had a brain tumor.”

“Oh, my God.” I reach out and pull her into my arms, holding her close. She doesn’t object, although she doesn’t hug me back either. I don’t care. The urge to protect her is overwhelming… even if it is ten years too late. After a few minutes, I lean back, although I still keep a hold of her. “What happened?”

“They operated to remove the tumor.”

“So, when you said you spent some time in hospital as a child…”

“Yeah. It was being in the neuro rehab unit for so long that made me decide to become a nurse. I didn’t anticipate going into neurotrauma, but now I have, I love it.”

“I know you do. But what I don’t understand is why something that happened over ten years ago means you can’t have children.”

She tilts her head just slightly, gazing into my eyes. “Because of the chemo.” Her answer seems obvious to her, but it’s only just adding up to me. “It left me infertile.”

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