Page 94 of A Manny for Christmas

‘I’m not giving you much of an answer, am I?’ He laughs and squeezes my hand more tightly. ‘It’s hard to articulate, because it’s been more of a shift in how I feel than what I think. When I’m with you, and Daze, and Tobes, I feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be. The idea of going back out to Malawi—it just seems so transient, that lifestyle. So lonely. Yeah, on the surface I’m doing good, but I’m not truly committing to anyone. Right now, the man I am today wants to commit to something properly. To you guys.’

‘You know, you’re making it sound suspiciously like a mid-life crisis,’ I say. It’s harsh, but damn if this guy didn’t break both our hearts because he was so adamant he didn’t want kids. I need to play devil’s advocate. Max is essentially auditioning for the most important job in the world here—the role of father-figure to the two most important people in my life—and there’s no way I’m letting him charm his way through the interview rounds too easily. He’s blindsided me, and he owes me answers.

If he can’t handle that, he can’t handle stepping up to help me raise my children. Yes, I’ve had a crappy year, and yes, I love Max. Love having him by my side. In my bed. And definitely inside my body. I also love the way he’s thrown himself into his childcare duties this past month—he’s blown me away.

And yet, I’m not desperate. I’m not broken. I’m still strong enough to walk away from the man I love most in the world—havealwaysloved most in the world—if he’s not the right fit for our little family. If committing to him means asking my children to compromise on the happiness they deserve, then there’s no contest.

Toby and Daisy will always win.

To Max’s credit, he doesn’t flinch. Instead, he gently nudges my head to get me to sit up straight and cups my jaw in his hand so he can look at me. ‘That’s a fair point. I know it makes me sound like I’ve been a total flake all this time, and now I fancy settling down and I’m taking the easy option.’ He shakes his head, his eyes boring into mine. ‘That’s not it, Mol.’

‘You told me the planet was overpopulated enough, and it didn’t need more humans on it,’ I counter, tilting my chin up and out of his grasp in defiance.

He chuckles. ‘So I did. And I still believe that. It was a big part of why I didn’t want kids. But they’re not deer, sweetheart. We can’t exactly cull them. Toby and Daisy are a part of the human race, and having had the honour of spending time with them, I know they’ll grow up to do far more good than harm on this planet. Especially if my brother has anything to do with it.’

That earns him a little laugh from me. Angus is revered in the world of biodynamics for the incredible, transformational work he’s carrying out on the farm.

‘So what you’re saying is, I’ve given you afait accompli.’

‘Exactly. So there’s no point in arguing that one.’

‘That was far from the only reason, though. Second.’ I hold up two fingers. ‘You thought the heartbreak and worry of having children wasn’t worth it.’

‘You really have my arguments memorised, don’t you?’ he says softly, and my eyes fill with tears again. Damn him.

‘You threw them at me every fucking time we had this discussion over, what, two years? Damn right I remember them,’ I say, my jaw stiff with the vain effort of holding the tears back.

He leans his forehead to mine. ‘Sweetheart. Don’t break my heart. And yeah. You’re right, of course. Fuck, what I saw Jules and Rach go through with Harry was enough to scare me off having kids for life. All those trips to the hospital? The ambulances, the sleepless nights they had just watching himbreathe, for fuck’s sake? I don’t know how anyone could willingly sign themselves up for that. It’s fucking terrifying.

‘I felt what we had was so amazing that I didn’t need more. Didn’t need to take a chance on making a baby and hoping he or she would be healthy. It felt like Russian roulette, to be honest.’

‘But now I’ve gone through the hard bit, and you’re happy with the risk if you wade in at this point?’ I ask. Even as the words come out, I know they’re overly harsh. Unfair. But I’m trying to assess how well Max has thought through all this, for his sake as much as for my children’s.

‘No, sweetheart. Quite the opposite. Because I have no illusions that the teenage years will be easy when they hit them. And honestly, I’ve already gone into spirals where your kids are concerned.’

‘What do you mean?’ I ask. I’m not sure where he’s going with this.

‘I mean,’ he says carefully, ‘I’m already worried about the level of heartbreak I’m setting myself up for if I get any more involved in their lives. Like, what if one of them gets run over by a car tomorrow? What if… I dunno, what if Daisy develops a meth habit, or gets a nasty boyfriend, or Toby’s anxiety gets worse during puberty, and he ODs or hangs himself the shower? What if one of them gets leukemia, or anorexia? I mean, how the fuck are we supposed to bear it? So much could go wrong.’

I rear back, horrified. ‘Fuckinghell, Max.’

‘I know, baby. I must sound like a psycho. But… do you never think like that?’

‘Of course I do,’ I tell him softly. ‘It’s the ultimate shitty conflict of parenthood. You can’t love them that deeply and not find yourself obsessing over all the stuff that could go wrong. God, even though neither of them was ever asthmatic like Harry, I used to stand over their cots and mutterthere but for the grace of God go I, and wonder if they’d still be alive in the morning.’ I rub my hand over my forehead. ‘It’s fucked up. It’ssofucked up, but you just have to do your best and find a way to keep that terror under control.’

And if I’m honest, Max felt that terror more strongly than me when we were fighting about this. He’d lived through Jules and Rachel’s nightmares with Harry before we got together. Harry’s asthma was far more under control by the time I met Max. I think I was blasé, and looking back, that’s the best way to go into parenthood.

Because if you truly know the terror and heartbreak it entails, I’m not sure you’d ever be courageous enough to take the leap.

‘It’s fucking terrifying,’ he says. ‘But, obviously, it’s something I’ve thought about a lot, these past few weeks. Can I really sign up for this—am I capable of it?’

I wait.

‘I wasn’t brave enough to follow you off that cliff, first time around,’ he says, and I snort, because it’s a decent analogy. ‘But now you have them, I want to do this with you. I’m not going to let you go through all this alone, Mol. It should be me by your side. We should do it together.’

I stroke his face sadly, because it’s not enough. It’s not what I need to hear.

‘I told you, you can’t just do this for me. I’m not going to let you be some martyr who takes on the burden of parenthood because you’ve fallen for a single mum. It’s not fair on anyone.’

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