Page 32 of Ms. Lead

I’m not going to argue with him about something so important and personal. There’s a reason why he’s responding like this. I don’t know what it is or could be, but that’s for him to tell me in his own time. Maybe he had a lousy childhood and doesn’t want to repeat that with his own children. I’ve heard of things like that. It hurts my heart for him, though, that he would limit himself like that.

“Well, for the record, after seeing you with Ava, I think you would be a wonderful father.” I try to meet his eyes, to show that I mean it, but he’s pulled farther into himself now. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No. No. It’s fine,” he shakes himself out of it and takes my hand, squeezing it tightly. “Sorry, I just spaced out for a minute. That was kind of you to say. Thank you.”

And that’s it. That’s the end of our discussion of future children. I’m not trying to plan our entire future, but that’s a pretty big obstacle for us to overcome. And it’s not something that can fix itself down the road. It’s a fundamental philosophical difference between us and how we see our individual futures and our combined one, if there will be one. From the sound of things now, it doesn’t look like there is going to be one for us.

My heart feels like it’s in a vice, squeezed from two sides. One side is me wanting a family of my own someday, and the other is Oliver not wanting that. They are so diametrically opposed to each other that there is no overlap. No common ground. No compromise to be had on the subject. It’s probably the singular thing that could come between us and a future together. Everything else could be negotiated somehow.

Maybe I need to reconsider my desire to have a family. Could I go without children if it meant I could spend my life with Oliver? I’m not so sure that I could.

Enzo pops into my head, and I think of our childhood together. It was great growing up in a large extended family like we did. I cherish that experience and want to continue that with my own family someday.

I think I would regret it if I turned my back on that potential future. Of course, there are no guarantees in life, and maybe children won’t happen for me, but I can’t choose that path now. Not until I’ve tried.

I swallow hard, trying to push down my extreme disappointment. “So, how is your book coming along?” I ask, changing the subject entirely. I’m going to need a minute to process this huge revelation. It looks like small talk is on the menu for the rest of the night.

This day has seen the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, all within a few hours. That’s Vegas for you. Futures here can change in a heartbeat. And sometimes, that future is the idea of a heartbeat. I need to decide if it’s something I want to gamble for.

* * *

The following week, our days are full of his various meetings and interviews with local law enforcement and city officials. I’ve taken to listening to audiobooks downloaded from the local library while I wait for him, and I have finished three entire books in five days. One of them was surprisingly spicy, and I had difficulty hiding my blush from the other people in the coffee shop. That got me some intriguing stares from Oliver while he worked.

By the end of each day, he’s exhausted from working, and I’m too tired from waiting around and doing nothing to be of any use to anyone.

We have passionate good morning and good night kisses, but that’s the extent of our physical interaction all week. However, we continue our connection via phone calls that go late into the night. We talk about anything, everything, and nothing at all, and each conversation solidifies my feelings toward him.

I do notice that he is extremely careful not to bring up any kind of future of our relationship, and there is no further discussion about children. I’ve not wanted to bring it up, either.

On Saturday, we go to Normandy and Brandon’s house for a barbeque that is just a cover for Oliver, interviewing both of them for his book. Chelsie and her husband Noah are also here with their son Jett and new baby daughter Grace.

Little Ava is in heaven, fawning over her new cousin. She is definitely going to be a protective force for her as they grow up. I love watching this family expand and grow right before my eyes.

“She is precious,” Oliver agrees wistfully, looking over my shoulder at the baby and letting her grab his pinky with her strong little hands. He brushes his lips against my temple and whispers so only I can hear, “You look good holding a baby. It suits you.” I can’t see his face, but I swear he sounds hopeful from his tone, and something deep within me ignites.

Is he changing his mind about children? Would he ever consider it?

The idea makes me smile, but I don’t say anything in response. I don’t want to burst my own bubble as I cling to the small hope that maybe things are changing, and possibilities are presenting themselves to Oliver that he’s actually thinking about. I’m okay living with this little dream for a while until it gets burst by Oliver himself.

Between his stealthy meetings with Normandy and Brandon, we find each other and seek a secluded location to make out like teenagers. A bathroom, the kitchen pantry, the laundry room, and at one point, we’re almost discovered in a side office as Brandon is searching for Ava. We all do pretty good at acting as though nothing was happening, but it was apparent. We all knew.

The hands-all-over-each-other thing is becoming a problem for both of us, and after we eat, and it looks as though things are winding down, we’re quick to make our goodbyes and leave for Oliver’s hotel. I play loose with the speed limit on the way because I cannot wait to be alone with him once and for all.

It’s been building up all week, and we’ve only made this hunger worse all day. It’s no longer a want. It’s a need. A desperate need. One I’ve never felt for anyone else before and one I can’t deny. I don’t want to deny it. I want to give in to it completely.

I pull up to the valet where Connor is working, and he gives me a sly wink as I hand him my keys. Oliver takes my hand and leads me inside, and it takes everything I have to not run to the elevators and smash the button to his floor to get there already. Spending the day like this with him, and seeing him in such a relaxed, family environment, where he fits in so easily, has done something to me.

This entire week and a half with him has done something to me. It’s shown me a future I could possibly have. It’s shown me how fantastic and wonderful it could be. My fear now is that it’s a future only I see. Or, even worse, one that only I want to see.

As the elevator slowly takes us up to his floor, that fear deepens. My excitement and adrenaline are amping up my anxiety, which in turn makes my fear become dread. My palms start to sweat, and my heart begins to beat harder against its cage.

I’ve never wanted something or someone so much in my life, and the dread racing at lightning speed through my veins that I’m going to lose all of it is overtaking me. It’s irrational and insane, but it’s there.

Somehow, I just know that all of this is only temporary, so I need to either enjoy it while I can and put off the hurt until later, or rip off the bandage now and still hurt just as bad.

It’s a no-brainer. I need to enjoy this while I can.

Chapter Nineteen

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