The Wild Wolf Pup (Zoe's Rescue Zoo #9)(57)

Endometriosis.

I didn’t have cancer.

And while I probably should’ve been devastated that my case was so severe and that the doctor suggested surgery, I was too relieved that I didn’t have cancer to give my illness much thought.

My mom closes her eyes and silently thanks Saint Anthony, and I close my eyes and thank my dad.

Mikey squeezes my hand tightly as he breathes a sigh of relief.

Today I was going to bask in the glory that I was okay, just like my dad promised.

Tomorrow I’d worry about the possibility of not having a child.

I’ll probably cry.

I’ll probably wish things were different.

I’ll ask myself why me.

What did I do to deserve this?

I’ll worry about what it means for my relationship.

But then I’ll remember my father’s words, and I’ll fight.

Because I determine the course of my life.

My dad taught me well.





Chapter Twenty-Two




Nikki rarely woke up before me. Our mornings consist of her hitting the snooze on the alarm six times before I have to drag her cute little ass out of bed. So when I opened my eyes and stared at her empty side of the bed, I knew something was wrong.

I throw my legs over the edge of the bed and pull on my basketball shorts that were haphazardly hanging off the lampshade beside our bed and went in search of my princess. Her first stop is usually the kitchen. Nikki can’t function without half a pot of coffee in her system, but I walked into an empty kitchen. She hadn’t even turned the coffee pot on yet. I flipped the switch, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I notice the back door slightly ajar.

I push the blinds aside, spot her lying on one of the lounge chairs smoking a cigarette and make my way onto the porch. She lifts her eyes to mine and quickly crushes her cigarette in the ashtray sitting between her legs. As I walk closer to her and take a seat on the foot of the lounge chair, I see the traces of tears that stain her flawless face.

I feel like a useless fool every time she cries, but the truth is I have no idea what to do with her tears. I don’t know how to make them stop, hell, half the time I don’t even know why she’s crying. There is so much negativity circling her, pulling her in different directions and instead of making it better for her I wind up with whiplash. As soon as I think I know how to help her feel better, something else comes along and shakes everything up. Mine and Nikki’s relationship is easy, we come and go as we please, answer to no one and live life according to our own standards. There is no drama, no constant flow of issues we have to deal with, it’s been smooth sailing until now.

I lift her legs and stretch them across my lap before bending my head to place my lips against one of her knees.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Princess?” I question, running my hands along her calves as I stare into her sad eyes.

“Nothing,” she insists, shaking her head before she forces a smile. “Everything’s peachy.”

“I might not be the brightest crayon in the box but I know when something isn’t right with you, Nikki,” I reply, holding her gaze. “Don’t shut me out because once we start pretending what affects one of us doesn’t affect the other, that’s when this thing we’re building falls apart,” I pause, reaching out to run my finger along the bridge of her nose. “We’re better than that,” I insist.

She covers her face with her hands and remains perfectly still for a moment before threading her fingers through her hair and gripping the ends in frustration. I narrow my eyes in confusion as she lifts her head and stares back at me.

“What do you want, Mikey?” She asks softly.

“What do you mean?” I question, trying to figure out how this became about me.

“Do you want kids?” She huffs. “We’re getting married, but we never discussed what happens after we say I do. Did you plan on having children? Did you want to travel the world? What do you want to do for the next sixty years?”

She’s right, we didn’t discuss the future much, but I didn’t think there was anything wrong with that. When two people are compatible like we are, who needs plans? They always change anyway. You can plan your whole life, every last detail, up to the prayer card given to the people who attend your wake, but it only takes one gust of wind to blow your plan to shit.

Nikki and I don’t need plans, we only need each other. For the first time in my life I’m sure of something and I’m sure I want to marry her. I want to spend the next sixty years riding the tides with her and wherever we wind up is exactly where we’re meant to be.

“I’ll start,” she offers. “I never pictured myself with a fleet of kids.”

“A fleet as in more than one?”

She smiles but her eyes still hold traces of doubt.

“Do you want a baby, Mikey?”

I think about the question, cupping the back of my neck as I try to picture me and Nikki with a little squirt of our own. One baby I could probably handle but when you use words like fleet, well, shit, I start to twitch. But if you have one then I think you have to have another, being an only child gets lonely. I didn’t realize it when I was younger but after my father was murdered, I kept thinking if my mom wasn’t here, his death would be my responsibility. I’d be the one to identify his body, plan his funeral and decide what was on the back of his prayer card.