I still have no idea what to say to Ryan. These hours away from him have only confused me even more. Is any of it worth it without him?
Regardless, he can’t be sleeping in his car. He’s got two of the most important games in his career coming up, and I refuse to let something as trivial as lack of sleep be the reason he doesn’t perform at his best.
Heading for the front door, I grab my coat.
“Please don’t tell him how shitty my coffee was!” Rio shouts from the kitchen.
Ryan’s Range Rover sits parked on the curb outside the front of the house, windows rolled up, but I can see him reclined in the driver’s seat with a coat bundled around him.
Tapping on the glass, I stir him awake.
He startles, taking a moment to reacclimate himself to his surroundings until his attention falls to me, just outside the window. His brows pull in, but a breath of relief blows from his lips.
I assumed he’d roll down his window so we could talk, but instead, Ryan opens his door and instantly pulls me into his body. Standing and swaying, he keeps his chin on my head and holds on to me like he never plans on letting me go.
“Did you get some sleep?” he asks.
“Not really. Did you?”
“Not really.”
“I would bring you a cup of coffee, but Rio’s coffee sucks compared to yours.”
His laugh rumbles in his chest, until finally, he pulls away enough to see me. “Please come home.”
Tears prick the back of my eyes. “Ryan, I can’t.”
“Please, Ind.”
“Do you remember what you said to me the first morning we had breakfast together? You told me that I should never have to beg someone to be ready for a future. And I won’t. Not again. Those were your words, Ryan.”
His eyes close as he runs his palm down his face. When they reopen, they’re as glassy as mine.
“You don’t have to beg, Ind. I’ll give you everything you could want.”
I’d love to believe him. Everything would feel better if I did, but I know deep down it would only fix the hurt on the surface. Ryan has never once shown any signs of wanting the family I do, and I blindly turned away as if I didn’t notice. Anytime children came up in conversation, his desire for them was always used in past tense.
“But is it what you want? Or would you have children with me just because it’s what I want? Ryan, I love you far too much to allow you to spend the rest of your life fulfilling my every wish if those dreams aren’t yours also.”
“They are,” he begs me to understand. “I told you, I’m in it.”
It might hurt, but I don’t know how else to get him to comprehend my fear that the words he’s saying could just be pretty words he knows I want to hear.
“Ryan, I spent six years hearing those exact words.”
He jolts, his head falling back to his car. “I’m not him.”
“I know you’re not. I just want you to understand where I’m coming from. Yesterday scared me, Ry.”
“I didn’t mean to say that. To compare you to her. I didn’t really even think that.”
As if it were second nature to him, Ryan thumbs under my eyes, more concerned with my emotions than his own.
“You could tell me until you’re blue in the face that you want to have kids with me, but what if that was my test? What if I really was pregnant? You were petrified, almost upset, thinking I was. Ryan, promised words don’t mean much when that reaction was our reality.”
His Adam's apple moves in a deep swallow. “I know. I fucked up and I’ll own that.”
“Let’s think for a second, okay?”
“I don’t need to think! I know what I want.”
“But I do need to think,” I say softly. “I love you, Ryan. So much, but I can’t go back to that apartment right now when I know the second I walk through the door, I’ll forget about everything simply because being there with you makes me happy. I owe myself a moment to think clearly. This is the rest of my life. Yours too.”
He blows out a deep exhale, looking away from me as he tries to come to terms that I’m not going home with him today.
Ryan folds his arms around my shoulders, kissing my forehead before leaving his lips to linger there. “I love you.” He threads his fingers through my hair, cupping my head to tilt my attention up. “Promise me you’re not giving up on us.”
“I’m not.”
Bending down, he kisses me with warm, parted lips and I lean into him, deepening it. His fingers curl into my hair, holding me there and I give in, memorizing every pull of his lips, every satisfied sound from his throat.
Pulling away, he dots another kiss on my cheek then on my forehead before sending me on my way back to the house.
He watches as I walk inside, folded arms on the roof of his car. “Tell Rio if he’s gonna fuck up the coffee then he needs to have some delivered for you!”
With a small smile on my face, I close the front door behind me, all while knowing I’ll have a coffee delivered in less than thirty minutes from the man outside.
41
INDY
The fertility clinic’s waiting room doesn’t look much different than that of a hospital. White sterile walls, terribly upholstered seats, outdated oak furniture, and magazines that came out six months ago.
I sit, holding my paperwork with bouncing knees as I wait for my name to be called. The timing of this appointment couldn’t be worse, but with the regular season of hockey winding down, I need to be ready as soon as the playoffs end, whether that’s next week or after another Stanley Cup Final.
Today’s appointment is simply a pre-check to make sure I’m healthy and all my lady parts are cooperating. As soon as the hockey season ends, I’ll begin right away with the injections. Honestly, it’s a bunch of doctor talk that I don’t fully understand, but I do know the process causes my eggs to mature so they can go in, get them out, and put those suckers on ice.
There are three other families in the waiting room. One with a newborn baby, another with a toddler, and the other is a couple who looks hopeful for their first. I’m the only person here alone.
I didn’t tell Ryan that my appointment was today, because in all honesty, I don’t know that I should even be here.
If Ryan isn’t involved, what’s the point? Yes, I’ve always wanted kids, but not without him. That realization hit me like a truck this morning as I was getting in my car to come here, and now, as I sit here alone, I’m still asking myself the same thing.
If he doesn’t want this, do I want it still?
I was already worried this would be a waste of money before I found out it was covered by insurance because who knows if it’ll even work. But now I’m wondering if it’s also a waste of time. I can’t see myself doing this without him.
“Indigo Ivers,” the older woman at the front desk calls out.
“That’s me.” I hold up my paperwork before making my way to her.
She types in some of my info as I stay standing and waiting on the other side.
“How’s your day going?” I ask, attempting to drown out my own thoughts.
“It’s going great, baby, how’s yours?”
“I’m not really sure how it’s going.”