It’s so tempting, even after all this time, to shut him out and roll around in my misery alone. It’s all in my head. I know that. I know that. It changes nothing. But Hook is tenacious and, really, I don’t really want to suffer alone.
I take a shaking breath. “What if I’m a terrible mother?”
He blinks. The shock on his face might have made me laugh if I wasn’t so in my head right now. He grabs my legs and tows them up and over his lap, turning me to face him fully. The trademark grin is nowhere in sight, leaving him devastatingly serious. “Why would you think that?”
“We know we want kids, right?” I want a family. I’ve always wanted a family. But that doesn’t mean I should have one. Some people shouldn’t procreate. How am I supposed to tell if I’m one of them? The thought makes my chest hurt. “I haven’t exactly had any good parental role models. My foster parents weren’t terrible, but they were overworked and exhausted all the time, and I was just another mouth to feed. A burden.”
“Tink—”
“I know how this sounds, but please let me get it out.”
His dark eyes are just as warm as the blanket around my shoulders. “You’ve been sitting here, thinking about this all afternoon, haven’t you?”
“Yes.” Longer, if I’m honest, but today the thoughts have gone from flitting through my head to feeling like they’re a bus trying to mow me over.
He rubs his hands lightly over my legs. “I’m listening.”
“What if we have kids and I fuck them up? I’m mean, Hook. I don’t know how to temper my tone or filter my words. I’ve never bothered to learn how. If we have kids, they’re going to have a mean asshole of a mother and they’re going to end up needing a lifetime of therapy as a result.” My breath catches in my throat, and I clamp my lips together, determined to keep the rest of the poisoned words in.
“Tell me,” he says quietly. He takes my hand, linking our fingers, and squeezes. “Tell me the rest, Tink.”
I don’t want to. I really, really don’t want to. I close my eyes and exhale. “What if I turn into my mother? She just dropped me as a baby at a fucking fire station. What if I go all the way through the pregnancy and then have buyer’s remorse and just bounce? Aren’t you worried about that?”
“No.”
I open my eyes. “What?”
Hook holds my gaze. “Are you worried that someday I’m going to hit you? Or hit our theoretical kids? Just get mad enough that I lose all control and do it?”
I flinch, anger rushing up and eclipsing my misery. “No. Fuck no. You’d never do that.”
“My father did.” His smile is bitter.
I open my mouth to snarl at him, and then force myself to slow down and think about what he’s saying. He’s right. Of course he’s right. “I see your point, but it doesn’t make the fear less real.”
“I know.” He tugs on my hands until I let him move me onto his lap so he can wrap his arms around me. He’s better than any blanket, and I relax back against him, letting his strength bolster me. Hook kisses my temple. “Neither of us have great childhoods to pull from. It doesn’t matter. We’re not our parents and we’re more than the trauma we’ve experienced.” He cuddles me closer. “You’re going to be a great mom, Tink. Fierce and protective and someone who shows her kids what strength and ambition looks like. And love. So much love.”
I lay my head against his shoulder. It feels like he’s lifted a hundred pounds of fear from my shoulders. “How do you always know the right thing to say?”
“Not always.” Hook chuckles. “But, to tell you the truth, I’ve been thinking about it, too.”
“Thinking about it…”
“Thinking about taking our talk of kids into a reality.” He must feel me tense, because he rubs one hand down my back in a soothing stroke. “Not until you’re ready.”
“What if I’m never ready?” I don’t know why I ask the question. We’ve come so far beyond my needing to test him with theoretical questions. But I’m feeling weak and scared right now, and I need Hook’s words to build back up my foundations.
He hugs me tighter. “Then you’re never ready, and we don’t have kids. And we’ll still be happy and fulfilled and live out our happily ever after.”
I don’t know why I can’t stop poking at this. I already know what I want. I already know that Hook loves me enough that this won’t break us, no matter where I land on the subject of kids. But the nearly overwhelming desire to keep questioning is there, pressing against the inside of my lips.
Won’t you resent me if we don’t have kids?
Won’t you stop trusting me?
Won’t…
I lean back and look up at him. There was a time when I’d fight in order to avoid being vulnerable, but we’ve long since passed it. I bite my bottom lip, hating that my throat feels thick. “Once we make that call, there’s no changing our mind or hitting the reset. You can’t have buyer’s remorse on a baby.”
He smooths my hair back, his expression achingly gentle. “There’s nothing saying we need to do it now. We can wait.”
For once, he’s not getting it. I wrap my hands around his wrists. “That’s just it. I don’t want to wait. I want babies, Hook. Multiple babies. I want them so bad, it scares the shit out of me. Which is why I’m sitting here, freaking myself out with all the things that can go wrong.”
He’s gone so still, I’m not sure he’s breathing. “What are you saying?”
After everything I’ve just dumped on him, it makes no sense that this is what trips me up. I gather up every scrap of courage I have. “I want… Do you want to have a baby? With me? Like in, say, nine months or so?” He’s still staring at me, so I start babbling. “My annual appointment is next week, and it’d be really easy to get the IUD taken out. I think we have to wait a month after that before we can really start trying, but that just gives us plenty of time to practice…” I trail off. Hook’s eyes are shining a little. Oh fuck, did I mess this up, too? I tighten my grip on his wrists. “I don’t have to, though. We can wait. I can make an appointment to take it out whenever. Or never. Because if you’re not ready—”
“Tink.” His voice is hoarse. “Beautiful girl, I’m ready.”
My breath catches in my throat. “Really?”
“Yes.” He breaks into a heart-stopping grin. “If you are, yes, a thousand times fucking yes.” Hook makes a valiant effort to temper his excitement. “But if you change your mind, that’s more than okay, too.”
My chest feels both tight and achingly light at the same time. I find myself grinning right back. “Really? You really mean it?”
“Fuck yes.” He cups my face and presses a light kiss to my lips. “Our kids are going to be hellions. You know that, right? They’ll be climbing the walls and spitting attitude and driving us crazy.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I can’t wait.”
It doesn’t seem possible, but he grins harder, beaming at me. “I love you.”