He shook his head, cigarette between his lips as he pulled up his sagging sweatpants. “I’ve always wanted to take care of my family, since the day you met me. Don’t act so surprised.”
“I’ve never met anybody more responsible with money than you,” I said. “You’ve been saving since you were fifteen. You even survived the market crash.”
“I might not’ve if I’d hired on help a few months earlier like your dad wanted me to.” He gestured at the workshop behind the house. “If my business fails, I fail anyone who works for me. They have families, too.”
I hadn’t even realized all this was running through his mind. He’d assured me over and over I could talk to him about anything bothering me, but had he not felt I’d reciprocate? “I wouldn’t trust my family with anyone else,” I said. “I have every faith we’ll be fine, and you know why? Because you’ve never given me a reason to feel otherwise.”
He looked to the sky. “Lake, if I love my child anywhere near as much as I did my sister, and obviously, that’ll be the case . . . I don’t know.” With his eyes up, I watched his throat ripple as he swallowed. “I’d never survive losing them . . . or you.”
I pulled on his arm to get him to look at me, but he wouldn’t. “Manning?” I asked.
“Yeah, Birdy.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me. I promise.”
Without moving his head, he let his eyes drop to mine. “You don’t know that. I want a guarantee that I can fix the bad things that might lie ahead of us. Money is the best way to do that.”
I covered my mouth at the sad irony. In vitro fertilization and adoption were options, and neither was cheap—but all the money in the world wouldn’t guarantee a baby of our own.
“Go inside,” he said when I shivered. “You’re not wearing enough clothing to be out here.”
I didn’t know what to say. How to tell him the truth. I focused on the orange tip of his cigarette as it flared with his next drag. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
“I’m not,” he said, exhaling. “I’m looking out for you. I don’t want you to get sick.”
“That’s because you care about me, and I care about you, too.” I tried to snatch the smoke from him, but he held it over his head.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Put it out, Manning.” Warmth rose to my cheeks as he stood there defying me. I’d had enough of the disgusting habit. “I’m serious.”
“I’ll come inside in a sec. I’m almost done.”
“Maybe that,” I snapped, pointing at the cancer stick in his hand, “is why we can’t have babies. Did you ever think of that?”
He jerked back as if I’d suddenly sprouted a second head. “What?”
“In case you haven’t noticed,” I said, raising my voice, “I’m—not—pregnant. And after sixteen months of trying, it’s time to stop pretending this isn’t real.”
Manning had frozen in place. Slowly, he squatted to put out his cigarette. “Nobody’s pretending.”
“Aren’t you?” I asked. “Don’t lie and say you haven’t noticed how long it’s taking.”
“I’ve noticed, yeah, but I just figured it takes us a little longer than others. We have time.”
“You don’t get it,” I said, tears overwhelming me. “I can’t get pregnant.”
“We don’t know—”
“I do. I do know. I’ve been to the doctor and she did an exam, and she thinks I’m . . .”
He stared up at me, his eyes wide. “You’re what?”
“Infertile.”
I looked down at him, at the cigarette butt pinched between his fingers. It was a fucked-up thing to blurt out. It was even more fucked up to blame him for this when I knew it wasn’t his fault. He’d been nothing but supportive and didn’t deserve to be ambushed. I wasn’t sure why I’d done it, but I got a strong sense of satisfaction when he ashed out the cigarette. Maybe that was why I’d suddenly needed him to know—to put a stop to his worrying.
“When was this?” he asked.
“Does it matter?” I asked, sniffling.
“Yes.”
“January.”
“And you never thought to mention it?” he asked. “That was months ago.”
“Of course I did. It’s all I’ve been able to think about. I didn’t know how to tell you, though. I was scared—”
“No shit, Lake,” he said, standing. “That’s why you should’ve told me.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Yes it is. How am I supposed to be here for you if you shut me out?”
He reached for me, but I stepped back. If he held me now, I’d never get the rest of it out. “I wanted to get a second opinion first,” I said. “I didn’t want you to hurt the way I’m hurting unless I knew for absolute sure.” I inhaled a shaky breath. “But when everyone around me is getting knocked up out of nowhere—Tiffany, Val, Blue—”