He nodded, but something in his gaze felt almost...disappointed. It didn't make sense, and I brushed it off as the emotional reaction of a woman who had everything to lose. I couldn't have a baby; not then. Maybe not ever.
I would have made a terrible mother.
Instead, I focused on the other reason I had to be concerned about our mistake. "Do I need to worry about—” I paused. “You know.”
His eyes darkened. "What, Isa?"
"Diseases. Infections. You know there's no risk from me, but you—"
"Ah," he chuckled darkly. "Fortunately, it has been a long time since I was with anyone before you. You don't need to worry about anything like that."
I nodded, letting him guide me toward the bedroom. He stripped off my clothes, helping me settle in the bed before he took off his own clothes and climbed in beside me. "Why are you so calm? What happens if—"
He shrugged, considering his words. "I am older than you," he said, his voice melancholy as if he was speaking more to himself than to me. Reminding himself of why my reaction might be more extreme than his. "I am ready for children. I understand what we have is new, but it wouldn't be an unwelcome turn of events."
His admission hit me square in the chest, as I let my eyes drift closed with exhaustion.
How could he say such a thing, when I wouldn't even find out if I was pregnant until I was already home in Chicago?