Music of the Soul (Runaway Train, #2.5)(19)

My mouth gaped open at his words. “Tied down? Is that what you think of Mia or Lily? Are they bound by their kids?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean?”

With a grimace, Jake said, “Kids change everything, okay? We’ve only had two years together. I want a few more before we bring kids into the picture.”

“Is your aversion to fatherhood because of your dad?”

Jake’s expression darkened. “What the f*ck is that supposed to mean?”

I opened my mouth and then closed it shut. I didn’t think I was ready to test out my theory on Jake, especially now that he was pissed off. “Abby?” he prompted.

Drawing in a ragged breath, I exhaled it before I responded. “I think you’re afraid that when you have the pressures of a wife and kids, you’ll become your father and stray.” Feeling more courageous, I continued on. “Somehow, you think if we don’t have kids for a long time, you can prolong what you feel is the inevitable—that you will cheat on me and lose me.”

His mouth fell open my summation, and I knew then that I had hit the nail on the head. “You’re not your father, Jake,” I said in a whisper.

“I know that,” he snapped.

“Then don’t be afraid of making his mistakes.”

He threw up his hands in frustration. “This is bullshit.”

Staring down at the checked blanket, I said in a low voice, “By the way you’re reacting, I think you and I both know it’s true. But regardless of all the shit with your dad, you have to know that your mother never, ever felt tied down by you. She was grateful for every moment she had with you.”

“Do not bring my mother into this conversation,” he growled.

“I’m sorry.”

“You know what really worries me? That you’ll decide when it’s time for us to have kids, whether I’m ready or not.”

“And how exactly would I do that?”

His blue eyes flashed. “By suddenly forgetting to take your birth control.”

I gasped. “You think I would actually go so far as to go behind your back to conceive a child?”

“If I kept denying you, then yes, I do think you would do that.”

“Y-You’re…an *!” I shouted before I clambered to my feet. Wrapping my arms around my naked chest, I stalked away from the bonfire toward the house. Halfway across the sand, the anger began to fade, and hot tears streamed down my cheeks. Craning my neck over my shoulder, I hoped that Jake was coming after to me to apologize or talk things out. Unfortunately, he remained at the fire pit.

I couldn’t believe the things he had said—the way he felt about me somehow deceiving him and getting pregnant. It wounded me deep to my core that he would ever think I could do such a thing. Our relationship had always been built on trust, and now he was making me question that. There was also the fact that he had confirmed my fears about him being like his father and cheating. Deep down, I never could believe he would ever do such a thing, but now the doubt was planted in my mind, and it caused my chest to ache.

When I got inside the house, I was mentally and physically exhausted. But just the thought of getting into the bed where we’d consummated our marriage and made love the night before was too painful. Instead, I threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt before collapsing onto the couch. I wrapped myself in a cocoon of blankets. It didn’t take long for the tears to come again. Never did I think I would spend one night of my honeymoon crying myself to sleep, but it looked like that was going to happen tonight. I brought my hands to my face and started sobbing uncontrollably.





I don’t know how long I spent sitting out beside the bonfire. I was too raw from my fight with Abby to go after her right away. I knew I needed to apologize. The hard part was that both of us had spoken the truth. Abby had all too easily guessed my issues with fatherhood, and I had let my worst fears about her slip out. In the two years we’d been together, we’d rarely fought over anything of real importance. I’m not saying I didn’t treat her like a callous dickhead several times when we first started dating, but everything else had always clicked into place so easily for us. Now we were twenty-four hours into our marriage and had just experienced our first major fight. And it was a real doozy.

Some newlyweds fought about paint colors and finances. Abby and I had to go straight for the jugular and fight about our future family. With a ragged sigh, I rubbed my eyes that were stinging from the bonfire’s smoke. At least I thought it was the smoke. Maybe I was being a real * and crying over our fight.

The truth was I didn’t hate the idea of having kids someday—just not anytime soon. I loved Jude and Melody, and now Bella had me wrapped around her little finger. But at the end of playtime or hanging out with them, they went home with their parents. They weren’t my sole responsibility. Babies and kids took a lot of work, time, and energy that I wasn’t ready to give yet. Of course, I wanted to get Abby pregnant someday. She was going to make the most amazing mother in the entire world. But I didn’t know why she had to have such baby fever now when she was only twenty-three. She was acting like she was thirty-five, and her biological clock was ticking. We shared so many of the same likes, dreams, and passions that it was hard imagining we were so far off the mark with the baby thing.