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“My ass will probably be crying, too,” he said. “So…small, intimate. Your father will give you away?”
I shrugged. “I guess. Really doesn’t matter. We’re not that close. Never have been.”
“Sorry, baby.”
“It’s all right. I mean, he’s my dad and I love him, but he hasn’t been that great of a father. Anyway, I just don’t wanna do the justice of the peace thing again like I did with Robert. I want our wedding to be special.”
“Me, too, baby. Especially since it’ll be the first and last time I get married.”
“It sure will, because I’m not letting your big, fine butt go anywhere.”
He grinned. “So, are you good with this house? Want me to buy you another one?”
“No, I love this house, big-ass furniture and all.”
He laughed. “I love it, too, and it’s got plenty of room for when we start having kids…”
He kept talking, but I didn’t hear a single word after kids. I hadn’t told him about my fertility issues, because…I really don’t know. After Robert and I tried and failed to get pregnant shortly after his first revealed infidelity, I just sort of trained myself not to think about it. The whole ordeal had been so painfully disappointing, trying all these natural methods, taking fertility pills and hormone injections, all to no avail. And with each negative pregnancy test, I grew more and more desperate. We were considering going the adoption route when I found out about Robert’s second affair. By then, we’d literally been trying to conceive for years, I was emotionally exhausted, and I made the decision that I couldn’t bring kids into my obvious shitty mess of a marriage. So I just gave up and pushed the thought of becoming a mother to the back of my mind, along with the painful memories of having tried so hard to make it happen. I decided I’d embrace the fact that I could bring life into the world through my job, and that was enough for me until that woman dropped my husband’s baby off at my doorstep. The feelings of inadequacy came flooding back as I was reminded of the fact that I was the reason we didn’t have children. Robert was obviously capable of making them.
It took months for me to get over that and push it out of my mind, and I’d done so in such an effective manner that I hadn’t even told the man I loved, the man whose ring I was wearing, that I could never give him children.
“…what do you think, baby?”
I had no idea what he was talking about, so with tears crowding my eyes, I said the only thing I could think to say. “Zo, I can’t have children. I’m-I’m unable to have children.”
The smile he was wearing before I spoke slowly faded. “Doc, what—”
“I have a hormonal imbalance. I was a late bloomer, so to speak. Didn’t start my period until I was fifteen. They’re regular, but shorter than they should be. I’m-I’m sorry, Zo. I try so hard not to think about it because it’s painful for me, that I never mentioned it to you, but you deserve to know, so I’m telling you now. If you want your ring back, I’ll understand. I-I’m so sorry.”
“Doc, it’s okay,” he said softly, but when I looked up at him, there was clear disappointment on his face.
I shook my head and let my tears fall. “No, it’s not okay. I should’ve told you long before now. You’re disappointed. I can see it on your face.” I slid the ring off my finger and laid it on the table. “Here.”
I kept my eyes lowered as I wiped the tears from my face, but heard him scoot his chair back and walk around the table. Kneeling beside me, he rested a hand on my thigh. “Doc, look at me.”
I shook my head.
“Baby, look at me. Please.”
I looked at him through watery eyes.
“Put the ring back on.”
I shook my head again.
“Doc, I love you. I’ma always love you. What you just told me didn’t change that. Nothing can change the way I feel about you. I’m glad you told me, but it doesn’t matter. Put the ring back on.”
“Are you sure it doesn’t matter?”
“I’m positive, baby.”
I picked up the ring and slipped it back on my finger. “Good, because I think I love this ring more than I love you.”
“Give me that damn ring back,” he said, with a huge grin on his face.
I rested my hand on his cheek. “Never.”
