Drew + Fable Forever (One Week Girlfriend #3.5)(19)

And stared down at him in wonder.

I imagined having Drew’s child. Holding a wiggly dark-haired little baby that we created, cuddled in my arms night after night. Feeding the baby, loving the baby, seeing Drew with his baby … the mere thought of it all made my heart fill to bursting. I’d been so excited, so eager to talk to him I couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel. I wanted to tell him all about Bryce, and how much I wanted to have his baby. I thought he’d be agreeable and say yes. I thought we’d be naked in bed right now, trying our best to have a baby.

Well, I’d have to stop taking the pill first. That would help.

And then I come back to the hotel and discover he doesn’t want one. Clearly. He looked ready to run at the first mention of a baby, which is his usual mode of operation. When the going gets tough, the Drew gets running. He loves to escape his problems. I’m the one who always makes him face them head on.

But look: I just did the same exact thing. Rather than continue our discussion, I walked out on him. Locked myself up in this bathroom so I could hide from him, fill the giant sunken tub with hot steaming water, and soak all my troubles away.

It hasn’t really helped, though. I’m still mad. More than that, I’m hurt. Hurt that he doesn’t want to even talk about trying for a baby. I’m not asking that we have one tomorrow. It usually takes a few tries before a woman gets pregnant. More than a few tries, even. We still have time. I just want a chance.

I want a baby. Drew’s baby. I want a sweet boy who looks just like his daddy. Or I want a pretty little girl who’s spoiled rotten. Actually, I want both—not as twins, but I want children, at least three kids, maybe four. I want to create a loving family with parents who still adore each other and healthy, smart kids. I want the picture-perfect little family, and I think Drew and I could totally accomplish it.

If he could just get his head out of his ass and stop panicking every single time I suggest something new and life-changing, then maybe we could move forward.

Muttering a few choice words beneath my breath, I reach for my phone sitting on the tiled edge of the tub to check the time. I’ve been in here for at least thirty minutes, avoiding Drew and soaking in the hot water.

Look at that. I have a message. From Drew.

Fable is …

Freaking

Absolutely

Beautiful

Loving and my

Everything

Talk to me.

No apology, but a poem. And I will not fall for his sweet, little silly poems—freaking absolutely beautiful? The guy is reaching and sorely out of practice. But I will not give in. I will not. I will not. I will not.

Despite my so-called steely resolve, I feel my heart melting. And it’s not from the steamy bathwater, either.

Sitting up more fully, I lean over the edge of the tub and start typing.

I’m mad at you. I don’t really want to talk to you.

I hit send. There. It felt good to be honest with him. If we can’t face each other and talk about this, then let’s go ahead and send text messages to each other like we’re teens. Whatever.

Thinking about babies scares me. I probably reacted wrong.

Ha. Understatement of the year. Yeah, he reacted wrong.

You definitely did. Didn’t you ever think we’d have a family someday?

Yeah, but in the far-off future. Not now. How can I take care of a baby?

I let out an irritated breath.

It’s not just you taking care of the baby, Drew. It’s the two of us. We do everything together. We’re a team.

I wait a while but he doesn’t text back, irritating me all over again. I mean, what the hell? Why does he panic so much? Yeah, this is scary, thinking about something as life-changing as this, but no one’s ever really ready for a baby. It usually just happens.

After fifteen minutes I’m still waiting and my skin is starting to prune up. It’s hot in the bathroom and I’m literally sweating. I want out, but I’m not ready to face him yet. Things are still left unresolved and I hate it.

My cell pings again and I grab it to read his message.

You’re thinking about babies and I thought maybe we should try and renew our vows.

I frown. Really?

Are you serious? We’ve only been married for a year.

But you didn’t get a real wedding.

I roll my eyes. He’s crazy.

I so did. We were married on a beach at sunset. On Maui. How much better does it get? I don’t want another wedding ceremony. I don’t need it. I already have you. I just want you. I love you. I don’t need a fancy wedding to prove that. I don’t even understand why you think I would need it.

Tears are sliding down my cheeks and I don’t know why. I wipe them away, frustrated at my reaction. We’re going round and round in circles. This fight makes no sense.

I’m sorry.

That’s it. Just an apology. No explanation, nothing else said. I’m not exactly sure what he’s apologizing for. Everything?

So I send him a message he’ll have to react to. It’s a promise, a vow we made to each other. The bathroom door is unlocked. I never locked him out; I’m not that cold, and he’s respectful enough of my boundaries that he doesn’t barge in unless I ask him to.

Right now, I’m asking him to.

Chapter Seven

Drew

The word marshmallow flashes on my phone’s screen and that’s it. The cue I need to go into that bathroom and talk to Fable. Tell her I’m being a selfish jackass. Promise her whatever she wants.