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Beth stared at him. “What?”

Jason spooned plums into the deep-sided white bowls that had been a gift from his mother the previous Christmas. “I guess it never hurts to have a doctor check you out. You do look pretty tired. Maybe you’re anemic. But if you’re seeing someone, I want to come with you. I want to be there for you.” He pushed the plums toward her. “Aren’t you having any? Or are you already off alcohol?”

Beth felt as if she’d stepped off a cliff. Her stomach swooped and her head spun. “Pregnant? What are you talking about?”

Jason froze, the spoon in his hand suspended in midair. “Having another baby. What were you talking about?”

“Work.” Her throat was dry. The situation should have been comical, but she’d never felt less like laughing. Another baby? The thought of it made her heart pound with panic.

There was a long, loaded silence. “Work?”

Beth sat down hard on the chair. “Yes. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. That’s what I thought I was talking to you about.”

The spoon clattered back into the serving dish, spattering juice and rum. Neither noticed. “I thought you were talking about growing our family. Having more kids.”

“Jason, the last thing I want is more kids. How could you even think that would be a good idea?” She was almost hyperventilating and Jason looked as stunned as she felt, although for different reasons apparently.

“But we adore the girls.” He sounded bemused.

“Of course we do. I’m not saying I don’t love the children. I’m saying I can’t handle more.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself. You’re incredible. I mean, look at this—” He waved his hand in the general direction of the table and the kitchen. “You’ve been with them all day and you still manage to produce this. You’re a superstar.”

“Let me rephrase, Jason—I don’t want to handle more. At least, not more parenting. I want to go back to work. I want more from life than domestic grind.”

The warmth in his eyes was replaced by hurt. “I didn’t realize the girls and I came under the heading of ‘domestic grind.’”

How had this conversation gone downhill so fast?

It was like watching a spool of thread unravel, knowing there was nothing she could do to stop it.

“It’s tough being at home with kids all the time, Jason.”

“I know you work hard.” His jaw was set. Rigid. The way it always was when they had difficult conversations. “We both work hard.”

“This isn’t a competition. It’s not about agreeing who works hardest. The difference is that you’re doing what you love, while I’m losing every skill I ever had.”

He stood up so suddenly the chair crashed to the floor.

Beth was on her feet in an instant. “You’ll wake the girls and it will take ages to settle them again.”

“And that would be bad, wouldn’t it,”

he said, “because you’ve had enough of them for one day?”

The injustice of his words stung. She knew she wasn’t doing a good job of explaining how she felt, but she also knew he wasn’t really listening. He was thinking about his own feelings, not hers. “I love the girls, and you know it.”

“We talked about having three kids. Maybe even four.”

“That was before we had any. I didn’t realize how much of me they’d consume.”

“Consume? You make them sound like monsters.”

“No! I—” How could she make him understand? No matter how many different ways she phrased it, he didn’t seem to hear her. Or maybe he didn’t want to hear her. He didn’t want his world overturned. “I love being with them, but I’ve been with them every day for the past seven years, and now I’m ready for something more. I can’t just be an adjunct to everyone else in the family.”

Jason lifted the chair and sat down again. “You said it was what you wanted.”

“When I was first pregnant, yes.” She thought about Melly’s first steps and the first time Ruby had smiled at her. “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. I know I’m lucky to have been able to be at home in the early years, but things change.”


Tags: Sarah Morgan Romance