by Lacey Black
“I like hugs!” Bri adds. “Daddy hugs me good, but Payton’s hugs are the best.”
My throat closes as I look across the table at my daughter. She’s casually coloring, not even remotely aware that her simple words caused cardiac arrest on her dear ol’ dad.
“Payton learned to give hugs from the master. Isn’t that right, Dean?” Grandma asks with another wink. Again, I’m pretty sure we’re not talking about the same type of hugs.
“Uh, okay. Although I’m starting to wonder if there is a right or wrong answer to that question.”
“Grandma, leave him alone. We don’t need to discuss my abilities to hug at the dinner table.”
“Oh, Payters. It’s always the right time to talk about hugging! And what better time than at the dinner table with family.” Emma has an ornery glean in her aged eyes.
“No, you should never talk about hugging at the dinner table, nor with family, especially your grandparents,” Lexi says, a horrified look on her face.
“Are we back to that again? Must I explain to you how hugging is a natural part of life? I thought we went over this when you girls were younger.”
“Yes, we did. I’m pretty sure I was the only person who learned about the birds and the bees from her grandma who brought multimedia resources to help during show and tell,” Payton chides.
“Show and tell?” I whisper, leaning in to her side.
“Penthouse and Playboy magazines. Plus, she left Grandpa’s copy of some cheesy 1970’s disco porno and told me to knock myself out.”
“That was educational,” Emma defends.
“It was not. It was disgusting and vulgar. Not to mention the fact that I was never able to look at a roller skating rink the same.”
“That was my favorite scene,” Orval says with a fond grin. “This girl was bent over, her rump in the air, while her partner held on to her hips for leverage, all while skating around the rink. It was a true test of her flexibility and his stamina. I could never get my Emma to reenact that scene with me.”
“Please stop,” Payton and Lexi both beg at the same time.
“I want to skate! I’ll go skating with you!” Bri exclaims innocently, making me choke on the ice tea the waitress just delivered.
“Yes! Let’s go skating. Orval, let’s plan to take Miss Brielle skating soon.”
“You guys can’t go skating. You’ll break your hips,” Payton cries, outraged at their carefree, blasé outlook on something as dangerous as roller skating.
“We’ll be fine. If we were at risk of breaking a hip, it would have happened by now. Your grandfather is a fan of my nimbleness.”
“Jesus, kill me now. Are you sure you don’t want to get our own table?” Payton mumbles.
“Can I go with you?” Lexi asks.
Fortunately, the rest of dinner progresses without any more talk about sex. Bri ordered the chicken fingers and ate all but one. Plus, she had some peaches and a bunch of Payton’s fries. Considering it wasn’t mac and cheese, I was happy with her meal choice. Payton seemed to relax through dinner, offering me a few genuine smiles as she shared stories of her childhood and the antics of her and her sisters.
When dinner is done and dessert nothing but empty plates and bowls, we get up to leave. I try to pay for our dinners, but Orval won’t hear of it. He wouldn’t even accept cash to put towards the bill or the tip.
“Thank you for dinner,” I tell them as we all stand up and gather jackets.
“It was my pleasure. I’m glad we ran into you,” Orval says, sticking his hand out for me to shake.
“I’m sure we’ll see you and Brielle again very soon. We have dinner together every few weeks, so I’ll be sure Payton mentions it to you when we plan the next gathering,” Emma adds as she steps in and wraps her arms around my waist.
Glancing over at Payton, her eyes are sad again, which tells me there’s a good chance I won’t actually be invited to the next family dinner. “Thank you for the invite, Emma,” I reply, not really knowing what else to say.
Suddenly, her frail arms tighten around my waist and I feel hands grip my ass. This little sprite of a woman has two handfuls of my ass and a broad smile across her face. “Oh, Dean, the pleasure is all mine.”
“Grandma, let go of my man’s ass,” Payton chastises from behind. Lexi dies laughing when she finally lets go, but not without a quick squeeze for good measure.
“What can I say, she’s an ass man,” Orval whispers as he leads his wife towards the door.
“Keep your wife under control,” Payton reprimands.
“There’s no controlling her, my dear. She’s as wild as the wind.”
“And you love it,” Grandma adds before he leads her out the door. “Come on, Lex. We’ll take you back home.”
“I’m wishing I had driven myself,” Lexi whispers as she crosses in front of us and follows behind her grandparents.
After final goodbyes and promises to take Bri roller skating, they head off to their car parked on the side of the street. I go to take my daughter’s hand, but find she’s already in Payton’s arms. They’re ahead of me now, walking towards my car, discussing the upcoming trip to the skating rink.
I’ll be honest, I’m confused. She has been pushing me away for the last few weeks, but calls me her man in front of her family. She’s planning a trip with my daughter, but makes me wonder if she’ll actually be around long enough to go on said trip. I’m confused as hell, and there’s only one way to find out what’s going on.
Or one person who can explain it to me.
We get in my car and pull out, but I have no intention of heading towards Payton’s house. We’re talking tonight, and I’ve got my daughter. Therefore, the only way to achieve this is to head to my house.
“Where are we going?” Payton asks from the passenger seat as I pass her street and head towards mine.
“My place.”
“Why?”
“I have to get Bri home and in bed, and I think we need to talk.” I glance over and see her staring at me. Her throat bobs as she swallows, but gives me a quick nod.
“You could have dropped me off so I could get my car.”
“True,” I concede, keeping my eyes on the road, “but this way you can’t sneak out without me knowing.” I offer her a quick smile and a wink, but honestly, it’s the truth. I hide my smirk knowing that she won’t be able to leave without a ride back to her place, and therefore, will be forced to stay with me. All night. All weekend. Forever.
Yeah, let’s go with that.
Back at my place, I’m second fiddle as Bri asks Payton to help her with her bath and get ready for bed. If she was uncomfortable with helping my daughter with her nightly routine, she didn’t show it. In fact, it was as natural as if it were an actual mother/daughter relationship. Again, my heart pounds in my chest.
I read a book, followed by one from Payton. Even though there’s a bit of begging and pleading, we finally get Bri into bed and the lights off. She gives dozens of hugs and kisses to each of us, asking tons of questions and trying to prolong bedtime as long as humanly possible. You gotta give her props for trying, right?
Finally, Payton and I are alone in the living room. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Just water,” she says quietly after taking a seat on the couch.
Heading into the kitchen gives me a few minutes to get my thoughts together. I know we need to talk, but there’s a nagging fear inside of me that reminds me that this could be the last time she’s sitting on my couch after putting my daughter to bed. After a few calming, cleansing breaths, I head back into the living room with two glasses of water.
“Thank you.” Our fingers touch as she grabs the glass, causing those pesky, familiar lightning bolts of lust to strike my cock. Apparently, the wayward appendage doesn’t care that we’re about to break-up.
I take a seat across from the couch on the loveseat. As much as I’d love to sit beside her and pull her into my arms, I need to keep my head
about myself, and therefore, keep my hands off her. We stare at each other, neither of us really knowing what to say. She looks sad and resolved, her green eyes dim.
“How have you been? I haven’t seen you much lately,” I start.
“Okay. I’ve spent some time with Meghan. She wants to move, says it’s too hard to stay in the house that they just got, but then when she picks up the paper to actually look for something, she feels guilty and cries herself to sleep.”
“I couldn’t imagine. It must be very hard for her. And you.”
“It’s the worst. I want to help, to make it all better, but I can’t. I think that’s the worst of it all. I’ve always been the one to make it all better, you know? As the oldest, they’ve come to me with everything from boy troubles to homework help. But this? I can’t fix this.”
“No, you can’t.”
We’re both quiet again. She stares down at her water, turning the glass in her hand as if it were the most interesting glass of water in the world.
“There are other things I can’t fix either,” she finally whispers. When her eyes find mine, they have tears in them. Tears that practically reach into my chest and squeeze my heart.
“What kinda things?”
Silence again. I can tell she’s gathering the courage she needs to say her piece.
“Do you remember when I told you there were things I wasn’t ready to tell you?” Her voice is shaky, but she’s trying so hard to be brave. She squares her shoulders and looks me in the eyes. Instead of answering her question, I nod.
“Well, there’s something I’ve known for some time now, and I’m not sure I’ve ever really dealt with it.”
“Okay,” I encourage.
“Can I ask you something first?” Again, I nod. “Do you want more kids?”
Her question throws me. It’s definitely not what I expected her to ask, that’s for sure. But she’s nervously awaiting my answer, so I give it to her. “Honestly, I’ve never really thought much about it? I mean, when I found out about Brielle, it was a bit of a surprise. She wasn’t planned, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t change it for anything.
“I guess the best way to answer the question is to say maybe. If the right woman came along, and she wanted kids, then yes. Would I be upset having more? Hell no. Brielle was a dream, even though it was tough parenting by myself. But if I didn’t have more, I’d be just fine.”
“What if you couldn’t have more?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“What do you mean? Me personally or me as in me and the woman I love?” It seems so easy to say the words, even though I haven’t actually said them to her yet.
“You and the woman you…love.” She looks pained to repeat my words.
“Well, if it couldn’t happen, I guess then the decision is made for us, right?”
“What if you wanted them and the woman you loved wanted them, but she couldn’t have them?” The tears start to fall, and I’m unable to stay seated any longer. She looks so defeated, so dejected, and so fucking heartbroken.
“Tell me,” I whisper as I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my lap. Her hands shake as she grips my shirt, clinging to me for strength.
“I can’t have kids. I was diagnosed with PCOS when I was in my early twenties.” I try to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but more fall just as quickly.
“What’s PCOS?”
She pulls back, her hands still locked on the front of my shirt. Swallowing hard, she tells me. “It stands for polycystic ovary syndrome. I have irregular periods, which causes abnormal ovarian function, or so the doctor said. Basically, I don’t ovulate right. Because of this, the chances of me actually getting pregnant on my own are slim to none.”
“On your own?”
“Well, there are injections of drugs that could help, but it’s not guaranteed. There’s also IVF, but I’d have to go to a bigger city for that. It’s not offered in Jupiter Bay, not to mention that it’s not covered by insurance. Plus, there’s the fact that I’m approaching thirty-five which is practically a death sentence for women with PCOS and their ability to conceive on their own.”
She continues to cry, and I finally see it. She’s not just saddened by the news, she’s mourning her ability to have kids. My beautiful, strong Payton has been sitting on this piece of information for years, and if I had to guess, hasn’t shared it with anyone. She has let it continue to eat away at her until she was drowning in it. That thought breaks my damn heart.
“Does this PCOS thing affect anything else?”
“Well, it can cause hormonal issues, things like facial hair or hair in other gross places, stuff like that. And cysts on my ovaries and uterus, but the ones I’ve had thus far haven’t been much of an issue.”
“Okay,” I say, taking in everything she’s told me. “So your big hang-up is…” I leave it open-ended, so she can clarify and just say the words she needs to say.
“I can’t have kids!” she proclaims, louder than I think she realizes. “And who wants to be with a woman who can’t give him an heir?” Again, the tears start to fall ripping at my heart.
“So this is why you’ve distanced yourself from me? This is why you didn’t want to get close to me or anyone else? You think I won’t want to be with you because you can’t provide me with an heir?”
“Of course I think that! Cole didn’t want to be with me, so why would anyone else?”
My blood runs cold. “What?”
Taking a deep breath, she tells me about her ex. “Cole and I had dated for a while. I had always had irregular periods, and when I mentioned it to my doctor, he wanted to do a pelvic exam and scheduled an ultrasound and some blood work. After, he explained what he found and told me it would be very difficult, if not impossible for me to get pregnant. Okay, he didn’t say impossible, because even with PCOS, there is a rare chance, but it was basically like being told I’d never have kids.
“I was really upset when I found out. I mean, I had always wanted kids. I saw myself as a mother, you know? When my doctor told me that, it felt like it was stripped away from me. I was devastated. Cole was upset, too. He wanted kids. Hell, we’d talked about it, but after everything was said and done, there was nothing left for him with me.”
“That’s bullshit,” I tell her with a vengeance I wasn’t expecting. “That’s complete, utter, unacceptable bullshit.”
She looks at me with shock in her gorgeous green eyes, but I’m not going to stop now.
She needs to hear what I have to say.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Payton
“What?” I ask. Well, choke out is more like it.
“That’s bullshit.” He turns me in his lap so that I’m practically facing him. “There is so much more to you than your ability to have a baby, Payton. You are the most loving, fiercely loyal, gorgeous woman I’ve ever known. You’ve proven how smart you are by successfully running your own business. You’ve shown me more patience and love when you interact with my daughter than anyone else who is around her. The fact that you may not be able to have a baby has nothing to do with you as a woman. You’re still an incredible person.”
I try to swallow, but it gets caught in the golf ball lodged in my throat.
“Do you hear me?” he asks. Something warm and comforting wraps around me as he slides his hands up the sides of my face and into my hair. His grip tightens, not enough to hurt, but enough to let me know that he’s here, beside me, with me. If I weren’t able to feel it in his touch, I can see it plain as day in his eyes.
“I hear you,” I whisper, sniffling and probably looking all gross and shit.
“If you were, someday, able to give me a baby, it would make me the happiest man alive. But do you know what? That doesn’t define you. That doesn’t define us. The truth is, I love you, with or without a baby in our future.”
There’s no controlling the stream of emotions falling down my face. Closing my eyes, I hold tightly to his words, reliving them each tim
e he repeats them. And he does. He tells me over and over that he loves me as he pulls me against his lips and claims mine with his own.
My heart breaks wide open, a new euphoria that I’ve never known filling my entire being. His lips are soft but urgent, his tongue coaxing my mouth open. The kiss is so much more than a kiss. It’s a declaration.
Gripping the front of his shirt again, I let myself get swept away by the moment. He tilts my head slightly, lining himself up perfectly to deepen the kiss. I finally feel myself letting go of everything: the past, the questions of the future, everything. It’s just him and me, together.
Well, us and an adorable little girl who will forever hold my heart.
Eventually, when we’re both breathless and delirious, he slowly pulls back, licking and nipping at my swollen lips. “Let’s take a moment to recap, shall we?” Kiss. “You might not be able to have a baby.” Kiss. “You were going to break-up with me tonight so that you could spare me the agony of saddling myself to a baby-less life with you.” Kiss. “I’m in love with you, so all of that doesn’t fucking matter.” Kiss. “Because.” Kiss. “I.” Kiss. “Love.” Kiss. “You.”
Best. Kiss. Ever.
“I’m not letting you end this, Payton. I don’t know where this is going to end up, but I know where I hope it’ll go. I knew the first time you walked into my conference room that you were different. So I plan to spend the rest of my life proving to you that you can be happy and that I can be happy, even without a baby. Because, as long as I have you, I’m happy.”
“You love me?” I ask, pleading with him to confirm once more what I already know.
“I do. I fell in love with you when we were in Richmond, sharing a hotel room.”
Closing my eyes, I savor the words. Sure, my sisters say it, my dad says it, and my grandparents say it. But hearing Dean tell me he loves me? Trumps everything. Cole used to tell me all the time, but over the years, it became more out of routine and with less feeling. Now that I look back, it got to the point where neither of us really said it at all in the end.
“Do you know what?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck.