This shocked me, but I said nothing.
A couple dates later, when I told him I had medical problems that would prevent me from having a child, he said he was looking forward to a full and free life without kids. He went on at length about how kids tied you down, how they’d be a source of stress. Worrying about them. Worrying about whether or not you were screwing them up with your own demons. Worrying about them hurting you by disappointing you. Admitting that he didn’t think he was capable of unconditional love.
When I told him I’d always wanted to be a mother, that unconditional love was a notion I could totally get behind, he said he wasn’t closed off to the idea of being with someone wanting to adopt and / or fostering as long as that person knew they’d have to do all the work. He said that hypothetically, if I wanted to do it and still be with him, I could do it myself or hire some help but not expect him to give up golf, not expect him to stop being a workaholic. Not expect nighttime feedings or diaper change assistance.
Being with Rick felt pragmatic at the time. Because I knew that if I wanted it, I could do it alone if I needed to. I was strong, independent, and could do whatever I wanted to do.
He left it up to me. And I thought I was okay with that.
But the spark of hope that ignited in my chest when Mason’s mother talked about being adopted? The idea that he could be open to that because his mom had a loving adoptive family?
Just thinking about the road with Rick has me all twisted in knots. He gave me someone else’s ring. I wore that ugly thing for months and put up with abuse from his mother and the woman he’s obviously fucking. Why? Sheila’s married, but why wouldn’t she leave her husband and just be with Rick herself? The only reason Rick proposed was because of some weird clause in his grampa’s will that … what… named me as the choice for his grandson to marry? A practical joke?
Grampa Bullock was definitely eccentric. And he treated me like a beloved granddaughter almost instantly. Told me I had moxie. That more women needed moxie. Would Rick really go along with all this just for the sake of money? He’s a financial planner who always talks about the fact that he’s been setting himself up for the future since he could count past the number of fingers he has. Would he really marry me to get the money when he’s going to get that money anyway whenever his Grandma passes away?
We’re pulling up behind my car now and I realize I’ve been lost in thought most of the short drive. Wallowing in my reality.
A fiancé that cheated, that probably didn’t really love me at all. Deceived me for months. An incredible wolf shifter that thinks we’re meant to be – but who would be sorely disappointed to find out the truth about me.
He gets out of his truck and I do, too, following him inside, my heart heavy, my chest feeling like it’s caving in.
As soon as we’re inside the door, he shuts and locks it, then lifts me up into his arms like I’m his bride.
“Why are you so sad, wildberry?” he asks, putting his lips to my forehead.
I shake my head and fight off the tears.
“You didn’t answer how many you want…” He lets that hang. And his eyes are soft, locked with mine, and I swear it’s almost as if he can see what’s inside my brain right now.
“And who were you talking to when I was giving your mom the tour? Something’s got you upset.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “Can you take me to bed, Mason? Please?”
“Absolutely,” he says against my mouth and then carries me to the kitchen, popping the dessert bag into the fridge before he climbs the stairs with me, a look of pure devotion on his gorgeous face.
“You gonna share that dessert with me?
“Nope. It’s mine. All mine,” I say, trying to be haughty, trying to lighten the mood.
He smiles.
I don’t know what I’m going to do about any of this. I don’t know if there’s anything I should do about this.
Maybe Ivy can have her happy ending with Tyson.
And maybe Mom will either fall for one or at least feel wanted for a while between the two shifters who are interested in her. I’m so happy for her – that she’s feeling good about herself, that she looks on top of the world.
But me? The super-alpha that got the short straw by getting me can do so much better than this super-bitch drama queen with the broken reproductive system. Self-loathing isn’t an admirable quality to have, but I can’t help but listen to the inner voice telling me that Mason Quinn deserves so much more than I can give him.