-RORY-
I took a small sip from the steaming cup of coffee as I stared at Hindley, sitting beside me at the dining room table.
We’d barely slept the night before but she had an early doctor’s appointment this morning, which meant the alarm clock had rung entirely too soon for either of us.
I stared at my plate of pancakes and bacon, my mouth watering.
She’d awoken early and made breakfast, knowing the smell of bacon would be the quickest way to get me out of bed. She’d been right. I could never resist her pancakes.
“Promise me something,” she said, handing me the syrup.
“Anything.” I shoved another fork full of pancakes in my mouth.
“Please promise me that you won’t treat me like I’m some delicate flower, like you think I’m going to break or hurt myself again.”
I swallowed the contents in my mouth. “I can’t promise you that, Hindley. You are delicate to me, and I will always protect you, even from yourself if I have to.”
“Good God, you’re so overprotective.” She fell back in her chair. “Is this how you’re going to be with our kids?” She laughed.
Kids? Holy shit.
I’d never wanted kids, had never even thought about having them.
“What’s wrong?” Her brow furrowed.
I shook my head, not knowing how to respond. I pushed my plate away, my appetite suddenly gone.
“You don’t want kids, do you?”
I swallowed hard, praying this wouldn’t be a deal breaker for us.
“Tell me the truth, Rory. You never want children?”
I didn’t want kids, but I didn’t want to lose her either. We’d agreed that we would never lie to one another again, about anything. Basically, I was fucked.
“Honestly, I’ve never thought about kids,” I said.
She sat up straight in her chair, crossing her arms on the table. “Well, now I’m asking you to think about them.”
I shrugged, trying to figure a way out of this mess. “Do we have to talk about this now?”
“Yes, we do.”
Fuck.
I raked a hand through my hair. “I don’t know, Hindley. I mean…”
“What?” she asked, her voice soft and reassuring.
“It’s just,” I stumbled to articulate my feelings. “I didn’t have any role models growing up.”
“What about Jack?”
Jack was a good man, a wonderful husband and father. But he’d come along later in my life, after my bad habits had already been formed. I didn’t know how to express that in a way she could understand.
She reached across the table, her hand covering mine. “Just say it. I won’t judge.”
“I don’t want to fuck up a kid, especially your kid. Not the way I was.”
“Rory, how can you ever think you would fuck up your own child?”
“Look at me, Hindley.” I waved a hand up and down my body. “I fuck up everything I touch.”
I pushed the chair back from the table, screwing my eyes shut. Visions of the countless times I’d fucked up in the past—with people I loved, with Hindley—swirled around in my head. I knew I’d do the same thing with a kid, only that would be worse, way worse.
My eyes opened when I felt her press into my lap.
She gently placed her hands on either side of my face and stroked my cheeks. She spread feather-light kisses across my face and down my jaw. Hindley made it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything but her love for me.
“You are my Skater Boy. You are not a fuck up. And you don’t fuck up everything you touch.”
I stared at the pale skin of her neck, trying to let her words soak in.
“Look at me, Rory,” she commanded.
I lifted my gaze, staring into her dark chocolate eyes.
“You saved me,” she said.
“What?” I laughed.
“I was lost without you.”
“When?”
“The two weeks we were apart, it was like I was missing my other half. Then, I opened my eyes in the hospital and there you were, and I knew. I just knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That no matter what, you’d always be there for me.”
“God, Hindley, you know I will.” I pulled her against my chest. “You know I’ll do anything for you.”
“And you will for our babies too.”
“What?” I half shouted. “Babies?”
“Umm hum,” she whispered in my ear. “Babies. As in more than one.”
“Hindley,” I shook my head, “I don’t know.” My breathing became shallow as I fought back a full-blown panic attack.
She leaned back, her eyes searching mine. “Rory, do you love me?”
“Of course I do. You know that.”
“And you’d do anything for me, right?”
“Yes.”
“That’s how I know you’ll be an amazing father.” She smiled as if it were that simple.
“What do you mean?”
“This baby will be half you and half me.”
“What the fuck? Are you pregnant?” I grasped her waist, about to toss her off me.
“No.” She laughed. “I meant in the future tense.” She covered her mouth to stifle her amusement. “I’m sorry.”
I clutched my chest like I’d had a heart attack. “Fuck, Hindley, that wasn’t even funny.” I lifted her from my lap and paced the small room, trying to think of anything other than Hindley being pregnant.
“Hey.” She circled her hands around my waist. “Stop.”
“Stop what?” I asked, covering her hands with mine, my heart beating like a stampede of elephants.
“We’re gonna screw up, Rory, with each other, with our kids, in life. It’s all part of living. It’s how we deal with it that matters.”
I stared down at her. She looked…peaceful, and that steadied my pulse.
She squeezed me hard. “Before I met you, I never allowed myself to need other people, and look where it got me.” She raised her arm to show me the bandage still wrapped tightly around her forearm.
I winced in pain.
“But you know what?” she said. “I wouldn’t change it, any of it, because it’s taught me a better way to deal with my life. It’s taught me to lean on people and ask for help. And it’s forced you to look at some of your demons too.”
I dug my fingers into her hair to hold her steady. I wondered, not for the first time, how in the fuck I’d ever been lucky enough to convince a woman like Hindley Hagen to marry me.
“I’m lucky to have you, too,” she said.
I smiled, realizing she’d read my thoughts. We were joined together, in every way, physically, mentally, emotionally. How could I not give this girl everything she wanted.
“How much longer do we have until my appointment?” she asked, glancing at my watch.
“We need to leave here in about forty-five minutes.”
“I can get dressed in fifteen.” She smirked, lifting her brows. I understood her silent request.
“Oh, Miss Hagen, I believe I can do something with you in thirty minutes.” I scooped her up and traipsed down the hallway toward the bedroom. “Many things.”
“God, I hope so, Mr. Gregor. Otherwise, I might have to return your ring.”
“Never!”
“No, never.” She laughed. “I’m yours. Forever, Skater Boy.”
I leaned down and pressed a kiss against her temple. “Forever, Drunk Girl.”