Page 4 of His Loving Wife

“No.” I laughed. “Things not going according to plan. I’m used to being in control.”

“You are in control. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Whatever you decide, I’ll be here for you. I love you.”

We’d said it before, usually in the heat of lovemaking or as a joke. This time when he said it, I felt the words’ impact. Those three syllables branched out through my body, filling me with warmth and confidence.

“What about our plans?”

“I’ve already been accepted to the graduate program for the fall. I’ll be here another two years at least. I feel confident I can complete my degree and parent at the same time.” He waited. “I understand it’s different for you.”

Briefly, my life seemed to flash before my eyes, the way they say it does when you die. I’d been offered a writing grant by the university. I thought I’d stay on campus another year, use the opportunity to hone my skills. It would be a first step toward what I believed would be an illustrious writing career.

“I’ve still not accepted the grant. There’s no way I’d be able to enter a program pregnant, let alone complete it with a newborn.” I bit my lip. “But I love you too and even though there’s barely anything inside me, I love it. Him or her.”

“We’re young. We still have our whole lives to figure it out. And we’ll both have our degrees within the month. Some things might have to be put on pause, but we can do this. Together.”

He kissed my hands. A single tear trailed down my cheek, and I was smiling. The fear, the love, the indecision… it was overwhelming. But in those moments with Andrew, it all felt right.

“We should get married,” he said.

My mouth fell open. “Married?”

“I know, right? Truth is, I can’t imagine a future without you. And I hate to break it to you, but a baby is a much bigger commitment than a couple of rings.”

“Married,” I repeated the word like a hex.

“One thing at a time.” He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer. “We’ll think about it. We don’t have to decide our entire future in one conversation.”

That’s how it started. Not Iwantto marry you. We should. It was a practical decision, even if the hormones in our brains made us believe otherwise. Sometimes I think every decision I’ve made since then has been the same—practical, logical, methodical. Except for that night in August.

Willow is walking away from the sea, her phone in her hand. The ends of her hair are damp, clumped together in narrow strands. Her skin is ivory. Even after a week, she doesn’t have the tan the rest of us do. She looks angelic. So, so beautiful. It’s hard to imagine the topic of our conversation all those years ago has developed into this full person before me. At sixteen, she’s only six years younger than I was when I made the decision to be her mother.

“What’s for dinner?” she asks when she gets closer.

I’m staring at her, smiling, lost in thought. I clear my throat, raise my book as though she interrupted my reading.

“Burgers.”

“My gosh. Could you guys get more boring?”

She returns to her towel and plops down, her legs and arms sprawled out like she’s about to be outlined in chalk. Her ears are plugged again with the headphones, and she’s retreated to a world where I no longer exist.

I stare at her a while longer, my smile dropping ever so slightly.

Chapter 3

Now

The meal came together easily, and eventually Willow got over the “basic-ness” of burgers. Andrew’s burgers aren’t basic at all, really. He has this special marinade he uses on the meat, which makes them taste savory with just a hint of sweet. Of course, they would have been better if we were back home and Andrew was using his familiar grill, but the one at the rental is in good condition, and by the time I take a bite, I can barely tell the difference.

“Good?” Andrew asks, waiting for approval.

“Delicious.”

“Mine’s great, Dad,” Noah says, even though his burger is nothing more than bread, meat and cheese. No toppings or condiments.

“What about you, Willow?” asks Andrew, equal parts joking and testing.

“Not bad,” she says, fighting against herself to smile. “You know I always like your burgers, but it’s the last night. I guess I was thinking we might do something special for dinner.”

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