“It still stung.”
“I think it will for awhile.”
“I’m worried it will sting forever.”
“Beauregard? I’m glad it will sting forever. Do you know why? Because that means you will work every day to make sure you and your sons stay connected. Don’t blame yourself for what their mother did.”
What she said struck me right in the guts and burned through my body. “It means everything to me that you think that.”
“I have to say one thing, though.”
“What?”
“The Moreau genes run hard and overtake everything else in its path,” she said, letting out a silly giggle. “You and your dad look so much alike. And the boys look exactly like you. It’s freaky.”
I frowned and gazed down at her. “You’re joking, right? You and your mom could be twins.”
She laughed and set her head back down on me. “It makes me curious who’s genes would win out if we had kids.”
Now that socked me in the guts even harder. Thinking of Geneviève carrying my baby made me feel things I’d never felt before.
Like a sudden, earthshattering desire to start making babies with her right now.
I rolled her over onto her back and said, “Do you think you want to have kids with me?”
A smile the likes I’d never seen before formed on her flushed face. “Someday.”
“All right. Until then, we’ll just have to train hard and practice as often as we can.”
Then I kissed her.
After that, we practiced.
Again.