Page 27 of Daring the Defender

“That’s what I don’t understand. Why do you need to do this?” His voice is tight. “Do you not want to get married?”

“No, it’s not that.” I pick at the seam on the blanket, a smooth line running across the side. “I’m not sure,” I admit. “I haven’t been sleeping well, and all of the planning just felt like it was getting out of hand. The parties, the wedding date, the wedding clothes…” I take a breath. “The house.”

“About the house. I told your father that we wanted to make some changes.”

“You did?” I rise up, surprised.

“I did. And he had no problem when I explained to him that I needed a larger office so that I have the ability to work from home a few days a week,” he says. “But don’t worry, I thought of you too. I asked for a door to be added for a nursery with an adjoining door to our bedroom. So you can be close to the babies all night.”

Babies? That familiar hot, itchy feeling spreads across my chest and I struggle to take a breath. “Wait!” I manage to get out. “Did you say you changed the plans to include an adjoining nursery?”

“Yeah,” he says, voice full of pride. “To make it easier for you.”

I stand, dropping the blanket, letting the cool porch air hit my overheated skin. “This isn’t what I want.”

He sighs. “What now?”

“You called me your fiancée, David.” Anger licks at my spine. “We’re not engaged.”

“Close enough.”

“No. It’s just another step forward that I wasn’t included in.”

“Are you serious with this?” he asks. “You’re really going to act like the victim here of some organized plan by me and our families to exclude you?”

I realize that I am serious. I think about how Reid looked when I spoke to him the night before. He didn’t judge me. He just listened.

“Yeah,” I reply, feeling emboldened. “I’m not saying it’s not something I don’t want some day, but not like this. Not with you and my parents making all of the decisions while I sit by quietly with no input.”

“Do you not want the nursery? Because we–”

I laugh. I actually laugh. The bubble of hysteria rising out of that tight mass in my chest.

“This isn’t about a nursery, and until you figure that out, I’m going to need some space. Real space.” I swallow. “I want to go on a break.”

With a twinge of underlying fear, he asks, “What does that mean?”

“That means that until I come back home, we’re not together. I need to think about myself for once and what I want, because to be fair, it’s been so long since anyone asked me that I’m not sure I could even describe it if I was asked.”

“Fine,” he says, the petulance vibrating through the phone. “If that’s what you need, take it. I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Thank you.”

“Whatever you need, Shel. I just want the best for both of us.”

“Me too.”

I hang up without saying anything else. Pacing around the small area I say aloud, “I can’t believe I just did that.”

There’s not much time to dwell on it, because I can hear the guys coming down the stairs and entering the kitchen. Axel. I told him we’d talk. I pull a sweater over my pajamas and run my fingers over my hair, yanking at the tangles.

Stepping into the living room I take in all four guys, each holding a bowl and spoon, look over at me. Well, everyone but Reid, who seems focused on pouring Frosted Oats in his bowl. None of them seem aware that my world just came crashing down.

“Hey,” Axel says, through a mouthful of cereal. “I was about to wake you up. Go change. We’re about to head to campus. I figured we could go to the coffee shop and talk.”

“He’s addicted to their bacon and egg biscuits,” Jefferson says, tipping back his bowl and drinking the milk in a move that should be juvenile and unattractive but it’s not possible with that face. It’s a shame those cheekbones are wasted on a boy.

“This isn’t breakfast?” I ask, receiving nothing but four confused stares back.

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