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"True," I say. "Thanks." I wave goodbye to the bartender, take my drink, and lead Jackson outside.
On the patio, the decorations are lusher, more vibrant. The sky grows a bright shade of indigo. The pool shimmers in the moonlight. The azure is a bright contrast against the potted palm trees and the birds of paradise.
I find a semi-private spot behind an ivy-colored booth with a high back.
No one can see us from the bar. Or the pool. Only if they get right in front of the space.
We have room to do whatever we want.
Jackson notices the sex-in-semi-public-friendly setting and smiles. "Did we go straight from the bachelor party to the honeymoon?"
"Maybe. That's the best part of marriage, isn't it?"
"The honeymoon?" he asks.
That's the part I picture. Sex in a tropical setting, white curtains blowing in the wind, blue bridal lingerie. (Because white is too obvious. And a bride needs something blue).
"I never thought of marriage that way," he says.
I want to talk to him here. I really do. I want to know everything inside his head.
And I want to have my way with him.
I take a long sip and let the impulses fight.
My brain screams talk.
My body screams fuck.
As usual, my brain wins.
"How do you see marriage?" I ask. "Besides as a financial institution?"
"As a promise. A commitment to a life with another person. I didn't worry about the romance. Or keeping the fire alive. What did that matter compared to raising a family?"
"You want kids?" I ask.
"I always did," he says. "But I never asked myself why. What I saw in that life."
"It's okay to want something because you want it."
He nods. "But do I want kids? Or do I want to be the sort of person who gets married and has kids?"
"I don't know. Do you?"
"I thought so. Now…" He takes a long sip. "I have time to figure it out."
I see him as a father. It suits him, somehow. That wisdom and strength and desire to care for someone. But he's right. It'shis decision to make, not mine. "Did you talk about it with your ex?"
"Maddie? Yes. We wanted the same thing. A house in the suburbs, stable careers, two to three kids."
"What went wrong?" I ask.
"The same thing that always does. I didn't love her."
"You've never been in love?" I ask.
"I don't know," he says. "I thought so. Now…"
