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“Jesus, we’re back to that!” he yells. “I told you I’m happy where I am.”
I roll over on the other side of the bed, standing. “I still took it away from you.”
He clenches his jaw and looks away. “When are you ever going to understand? I only want you.” His shoulders fall and he shakes his head. “I only want you.”
“You say that now, but you’ll feel differently watching Brody and all your nieces and nephews grow up.” All of a sudden, all those emotions I must’ve felt last year rush up inside me. I understand her, the old Lucy. I understand how she could’ve left him. “It’s better to have you hate me now than to resent me in ten years.” God, those words sound so familiar.
“What? You said we’d fight this time. You said you were in this. But only until it got tough, huh?” His face grows red.
“I’ve seen it, Adam. It’s not pretty, okay? Couples going through infertility with such a low chance of success. You think the odds are great until they’re stacked against you. How many years would we do it, put in money we can’t afford, to try, and then say we’re done, never having gotten what we wanted out of it. I guarantee by that time, our relationship will be damaged beyond repair. And adoption? Another long, hard road.”
“Then we fight. We fight to keep us alive.” His screams echo off the walls.
Tears burst out of me. “How do you know our love is strong enough to endure all this?”
“Because it is.” His voice lowers and he rounds the bed. “Because my life without you wasn’t a life. And now that I have you back, I’m not going to lose you.”
“No, you’re going to lose the life you dreamed of,” I say.
“I have you. And if we really want kids, we’ll figure out a way to make it happen. I have no doubt we’ll get through this. Somehow. Someway. We might have a few scrapes and bruises, but you’ll always have my arms to run to. You said this is a partnership, so I’ll keep you up when you’re down and vice versa, but running isn’t an option.”
“I’m not going to run. I told you, didn’t I?”
He puts his arms around me. “You sounded like you were about to run.”
“It’s tempting. I feel like such a failure. I’m the one who ran out on you, the one who has amnesia, and now the one who can’t give you a child.” I cry into his chest, the despair making me exhausted. “I can’t help but fear one day you’ll think you’d have had an easier life with someone else.”
He runs his hand down my hair and holds me. I sob, unable to stop all the emotions from everything over the last three months escaping.
“Time to lie down,” he says gently and leads me to the bed. He shrugs off his pants before climbing in and holding me. “This is fresh news. We just need to worry about this one step at a time, but right now, let’s relax.”
He holds me, his hands running up and down my back and hip. Eventually my tears run dry and my eyes drift closed.
