Page 32 of Angel
"Stevie…"
“I just need a few days,” I cut in. “Just to see.”
“See what?”
“If it worked,” I say, voice rising despite myself. “If we worked.”
His jaw tightens.
“That’s not what that means,” he says carefully. “Counselling wasn’t a guarantee.”
“I know that.”
“Then why does it feel like you’re right back where you were?”
Because I am, I felt steadier for a minute, and that steadiness made room for hope.
“You don’t get it,” I say, heat flooding my chest. “I can feel something’s different.”
“That don’t mean…”
“I know my body!” I shout.
The words hang there, heavy and brittle. Angel exhales slowly, like he’s trying not to lose his temper.
“I’m just sayin’… we said we’d slow down.”
“And now you want me to stop again?” My voice cracks. “Is that it?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s what you meant.”
He looks at me then, really looks.Not angry. Just worn thin.Like a man who’s been holding his breath for months and is finally running out of air.
“Stevie,” he says, voice rough, “having kids isn’t everything.”
Something inside me goes very still. I stare at him, heart pounding, ears ringing.
“What did you just say?”
He stiffens, realizing too late.
“That’s not...”
“Isn’t everything?" I repeat, my voice flat. “You think I don’t know that?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“But it’s what you said.”
Silence crashes between us, sharp and unforgiving. It feels like a physical thing. Like a door slamming somewhere deep inside me.
“I’ve buried parts of myself trying to make this happen,” I whisper. “I’ve lost pieces of me you’ll never have to lose. And you think I don’t know it’s not everything?”
His face crumples. “Stevie—”
“I know it’s not everything,” I snap. “But it’s everything to me right now.”
